


Playing Among The Stars | Minsung

by Ly_The_Great_Fandom_Trashcan



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Also inspired by Tinker Bell and the lost treasure ://, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Romance, Badass Jisung bc I know how much y'all missed him in Almost killing the prince ://, Clan of dragons, Dragon Riders, Dragon Trainer Han Jisung | Han, Dragons, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Family Issues, Fantasy, Fate & Destiny, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Han Jisung | Han & Hwang Hyunjin are Best Friends, Han Jisung | Han Being an Asshole, High Fantasy, Historical, Historical Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, Hwang Hyunjin is a Good Friend, Hwang Hyunjin is a Little Shit, Injury, Inspired by Skyrim and the The Witcher, Jisung and Minho don't get along, Leader yang Jeongin, Leaving Home, Lee Minho | Lee Know is a Panicked Gay, M/M, Magic, Mentioned Other K-pop Artist(s), Minor Bang Chan/Yang Jeongin | I.N, Near Death Experiences, No Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protectiveness, Quests, Sarcastic Jisung, Secrets, Shocking I know, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Sorcerer Lee Minho | Lee Know, Sorcerers, Swordfighting, Swords, Swords & Sorcery, Tags Are Hard, Training, Travel, Weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:35:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28719720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ly_The_Great_Fandom_Trashcan/pseuds/Ly_The_Great_Fandom_Trashcan
Summary: At the first mention of dragons, Minho was out the door.Not that he was disgusted, or angered, but rather intrigued, inspired by the myths surrounding the legendary creatures. He wanted to find one, tame one to impress and wow everyone in the kingdom, especially since he's the chosen host at the Harvest Festival. And because he didn't want to be the sole cause of a war between the Five Realms.Thought to be creatures extinct for many millennia, no one thought he'd actually find one.He did, along with someone who may be much more dangerous than the horned devils themselves.Jisung Han.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 16
Kudos: 55





	1. Introduction

(Usually, i don't include introductions but I'm pretty sure y'all are going to need it for this book LMAO)

Good morning! My name is Ly, and I present to you:

Playing Among The Stars

A Minsung fanfic that won the voting as my next published book and an idea that I've had in the back of my head for a million years, ft. a return of badass Jisung because y'all loved him so much in Almost Killing the Prince. And dragons! :D

Written by ya boi: @Toastter_Treatts (Aka Poptarts)

Edited by: @burntt._.toastt (on Instagram. Y'all should check her out on there. She edits all my stories that don't have Smut in them LMAO)

Anyway:

**_How I portray characters in this story are different from reality, the same goes with situations and personalities. Of course, this is a work of fiction, scenarios are not real and are only a creation from my imagination, without the purpose of violating images of artists._ **  
  
  
  


**_S t o r y D e t a i l s :_ **

They were once worshiped as Gods, during the era of the Old Kingdom. Powerful, large, versatile and... _extinct._

Dragons are extinct, it's a universal fact taught to the youngest of orcs to the oldest of elves. But at the first mention of dragons, Minho was out the door in search of one. It's a crazy thought, a crazy plan; even Minho thought it was crazy. But did he care? No— _Maybe._ But he had tenacity, damn it!

With his goodbyes (possibly last ones) he departs from the capital, away from his supposed destiny back home.

He wanted to find one, tame one to impress and wow everyone in the kingdom, especially since he's the chosen host as the Harvest Festival. And because he didn't want to be the sole cause of a war between the Five Realms.

But maybe he found something— _someone_ much more dangerous than the creatures themselves: Jisung Han.  
  
  
  


**_Historical-Fantasy Setting. Inspired by medieval era, Feudal Europe around 13th-14th century (1200s-1300s); fictional setting of a kingdom. Map below:_ ** **_(these maps will be on at the top of each chapter that needs it for reference :) ))_ **

_Days I update:_ Mondays, Wednesdays, and every other Friday.  
  
  


**Disclaimer!** _I used much of medieval Europe's history in this book so I apologize for any historical errors I have made in this story, I have tried my best to research as much as I could. However, I also used a few myths from cultures all over the world and didn't stick to European myths + based the different cultures in this book to real cultures in real life (E.g dragon trainers as Nordic Vikings or Orcs as Mongols) so if I offend anyone's culture, I apologize! I researched as much as I could, but since this is the first time I've ever written a fantasy story, I might've gotten many things wrong._  
  
  
  
  
  


**_N o t e s :_ **

**_-If there are any grammar mistakes, lend a helping hand and kindly point them out! <3_ **

**_-Light drama_ **

**_-Other mentioned k-pop idols_ **

**_-Inspired by The Witcher 3 + Skyrim + how to train your dragon (1+2)+ Tinker Bell and the Lost Treasure LMAO (yes, I was seriously inspired by tinker bell)._ **

**_-Dragon trainer Jisung; Magic-User/Animal caretaker Minho_ **

**_-Caution, Sarcastic Jisung._ **

**_-NO Smut_ **

**_-Mostly fluff and adventure and action + magic :D_ **

**_-Comments are appreciated as they give me joy, I encourage y'all to not be a silent reader, I wanna hear your voice! <3_ **

**_-also dedicated to my editor, @burntt._.toastt <33 tysm for editing many of my stories and helping me with research on this one, boo <33_ **  
  
  


**_Much Love, Ly <3_ **


	2. - Prologue -

The Lee family helped build this capital. The Lee family brought this once good-for-nothing village out of the mud and into a powerful empire.

The _Lee_ family has and continued to serve this empire, not as pretentious kings or bloodthirsty warriors, but as advisors to the rulers—sorcerers that keep the idiot that runs this kingdom from crashing it into the ocean. They were the right hand and the brain, as well as the heart and potentially the legs too. The Lee family had the most power, and everyone knew and respected them for it.

"Minho, stop looking out the window and continue to study."

And _Lee_ Minho could laugh!

Could he not stare out the window and daydream? Did his nose have to be stuck in a book all the damn time? His brain in between the lines? It hasn't been a minute yet, and his uncle was already berating him about his studies—Minho studied! Studied the arts, magic, politics, religions, bits, and pieces of innovations—everything. Yet, he couldn't even look outside, how tragic.

With a huff, Minho glances away from the window and rests his chin on his palm. Returning to this book about—what was it about again? _The Ins and Outs of an Egalitarian: For Dummies_. It was just so damn boring, Minho forgot whatever information he was absorbing the second he finished reading a sentence.

But it's snowing today. It rarely snows out here in The Capital. Sure, temperatures drop, and there's the occasional storm, accompanied with the harsh winds that every autumn and winter brought along. But snow? It snowed maybe once every year, twice if they were lucky.

But it's been snowing for a week now. No, it's not a storm, but it's snowed _enough_ that thick sheets of white stacked outside, on the grounds and the roofs of The Capital alike.

 _It's snowing so much because you're ruining the balance!_ His grandma told him, b _ecome an advisor, continue your studies. Then the Gods will be happy._

Or _you need to learn and follow your seniors._ His uncle said, _the spirits are angry with you for your disobedience and disloyalty to the empire!_

Leaning over, Minho peeks past the many shelves of books and artifacts, glimpsing his uncle sitting on the desk ways away, writing something by candlelight. His quill scratched back and forth onto the paper, dipping the tip into an inkwell every other word. Though as his eyes glance up to check on the young sorcerer, the younger immediately turns his head back toward his book: _The Ins and Outs of an—_

"Minho, if you don't want to study, just say," his uncle says.

"What? No, no, no. I want to study." Minho waved him off, furrowing his brows and following the lines of texts with his fingers, trying to fool his uncle into thinking he had been reading all along. Though even he couldn't fool himself. "I'm just... Cold... Just cold."

"Ah, I see. Sorry, I know how the archives could become freezing in the winter, now that it's snowing and all..."

"It's fine, uncle. I'll live."

"Well, I don't want you to get sick. Your mother'll kill me." His uncle returns to writing, pushing up his glasses before waving off Minho. "You're dismissed. But go home immediately. Don't stall."

Minho scrambles to his feet, shutting the stupid book _The Ins and Outs of—Whatever!_ Minho was out of here! 

He blows out the candle on the table, returning the books to their proper shelves (his uncle was a patient man, but couldn't handle anyone ruining the order and laws he set in the archives), before rushing out the door.

Immediately, the cold winter air kisses his cheeks, shivering and rubbing his hands together at the unexpected slap to the face. He almost scampered back inside the building, if it weren't for the thoughts of a warm bed and maybe an even warmer cup of chocolate, possibly continuing his studies in the warm comforts of his room instead of the chilly scoffs of the archives.

Taking his uncle's words into consideration, Minho runs through the snow, past the minimal residents of The Capital that dared to walk outside, past the children playing with the snow and the barren trees looking forward to their next bloom, or the white wasteland of the streets.

While he wanted to go home quickly, dive into five sheets of blankets and sleep for the rest of the day, he also wanted to take in the surrounding scenery. Sure, it's not as bustling as spring, or as sleepy as autumn, but it wasn't every day that Minho got off studying early; he wanted to take his time.

Though he _really_ should get home quickly. If his mother ever found out he wandered off, he'll be beat, maybe even prohibited from leaving his studies early ever again if he _really_ got on her nerves.

"Get it! Don't let it run away!" Minho yelps as a small group of little boys run past him, chasing after a mysterious creature Minho couldn't quite catch. They threw rocks at it, sticks and such to slow it down, running to the forest that connected to the street.

Boys will be boys and whatnot. But as much as Minho wanted to go home, he also didn't want those children to hurt a poor creature. Damn his moral consciousness, his parents would understand, right?

"Hey! What are you doing?! Leave that poor animal alone!" Minho barks at the little children, terrorizing a kitten as it hissed and scampered into a small dugout under a tree trunk, deep enough that the children couldn't reach.

"Mister, she keeps stealing pastries from the baker!" one boy exclaimed. "And you know how he gets about that!"

They agree unanimously, one speaking up, "And he paid us to chase it away. Driving away business and whatnot."

"Still, don't throw things at it." Minho scratches his head, searching for his pockets. He hands the boys some coins, gesturing back toward the street. "Tell the baker I took care of it and to pay him for this loss. Also, tell him to pay you, boys."

"What if it steals something else from the baker? He won't like that."

"Then, it'll be my fault. But I assure you it won't cause any more trouble." The boys glance at each other before nodding, scurrying off. With a sigh, Minho turns to the dugout, crouching low to glimpse the darkness that enveloped the creature. He saw two large orbs staring through him, white paws with striped orange. It laid on its side, close to the dirt that stained its fiery fur, growling when Minho inched closer, flattening its ears against its head. Though it couldn't move,—it got hurt from what Minho could see.

He unfastens his scarf, murmuring some spell under his breath to calm the creature before he carefully reaches inside the burrow, wrapping the scarf around the cat before he pulls it out. It groans lightly; under the calming spell, it fell limp in Minho's arms as he properly covered the marmalade cat from the cold. He only hopes that the trivial spell was strong enough to ease the pain as well. Those boys really did a number on her.

"You'll be okay," Minho shushes, running past the trees and back home.

Maybe his parents wouldn't know that he wandered off. Maybe he'll skip past the lecture about the Lee family and its importance, or whatever the hell. Though, he knew that his parents wouldn't allow a cat into the manor.


	3. - Ch. 1-

"The Lee family practically built this city themselves! They were the ones that chose the first rulers of this kingdom, the ones who opened up this conservative empire to new ideas and allowed this dog-shit capital to prosper permanently. The Lee family helped—"

"—shape this city and its rulers, I know."

"And they don't interrupt others!" Minho glances up from his book, meeting his mother pacing about in the room, picking up her ruby dress to keep from stepping onto the sheer and silky fabric. She twirls her fan between her fingers, muttering trivial worries under her breath before she whips toward Minho, placing all of her attention onto her son. "You know, the Lee family has had the most influence over the monarchy for over ten generations."

"Yeah, I know."

"If you know, then why don't you listen?" She sighs, chewing onto her lower lip before heading toward the younger. "I don't want to give you another lecture, but you're the future of the Lee family. You don't have any siblings and your grandfather already gave you his blessing, didn't he?"

Yes, he knows.

Minho shuts his book, huffing at his mother that stared at him worryingly, fumbling about with her ornate fan, knitting her brows, and tugging at her earrings.

"I just worry about you, Minho. You have a life laid out in front of you! You can be one of those people who make a difference." She groans. "Destiny laid out a path so clear in front of you, son, and you choose not to follow it! Do you get a kick out of it? Is disobeying the Gods' wishes your thing now?"

"Who says I won't make a difference by being something other than a court sorcerer?" He huffs, returning his book onto the table nearby. He made a gesture to stand, but a marmalade cat jumps onto his lap, purring as she circled and laid comfortably against him.

" _Because_ , you're destined for something so much greater than... than—" Eomeoni Lee sputters, gesturing to her pigheaded son. "Whatever it is you do!"

"I take care of creatures, eomma," Minho huffs, petting the cat's head affectionately, though his mother takes both of his hands, frowning at him much to Soonie's disapproval.

" _You_ have talent, Minho. You're powerful and intelligent—you shouldn't waste your talents on... taking care of _animals._ " She gestures to the cat. "And you never listen to me or your father. It's been eight years since I told you to get rid of that cat when you brought it in. And ever since, you stopped obeying your parents."

"It's not a _cat,_ Eomma." Minho pulls his hands away. "She's Soonie. And I obey you and Appa. I still study, I still do whatever it is you want me to do."

"Sometimes I wished your uncle hadn't let you off your studies so early," Eomeoni Lee says, shaking her head. "You wouldn't have taken care of animals just because of some cat— _Soonie_."

"She's not just some cat! She really brings this family together. You should know that! You always let her sleep on your bed!"

At Soonie's agreeing meow, Abeoji Lee walks into the drawing-room, fixing his inky doublet, gesturing to the young sorcerer sitting idly on a couch nearby with the fiery coat of fur standing out from his own black tunic.

"Look at you. I don't mind Soonie, but at least don't let her shed all over your clothes before the party." He sighs, shooing the cat off of his son. Though the damage had already been done; cat hair, all over Minho's tunic and cloak.

"Aish! We have to do everything for our idiot son!" Eomeoni Lee ushers Minho to his feet, dusting off the fur and brushing back his hair, styling it further to keep the stray strands from falling over his eyes.

"Wait, a minute! I can do it myself!" 

"Don't be ridiculous, you'll only stall. Now come on, we'll be late if we don't hurry."

Linking her arm around Minho's, the trio exit the manor, bidding the servants goodbye. Mounting the horses, they exit the vicinity, urging their horses into a canter down the road.

Minho never expected to attend the prince's birthday party. He never went, actually, though his family always attended (of course they attended, they were the _Lee_ family). Minho just never found much in the over-the-top parties in that castle, never liked the idea of drinking himself to death for a day (he liked to wake up safe and sound in his bed tomorrow, not on a musty hay stack in some stable on the other side of the city). He expected to stay inside, playing with Soonie or studying or at his offices, taking care of the creatures he took under his wing over the years. Or helping the servants around the manor, maybe cook a pastry or two in the kitchen. Apparently, his parents finally tire of his lacking social life and dragged him to the party, saying that if he wanted to have influence over the throne, he needed connections. Damn strong ones.

Not that Minho had any sort of dispute with any of the lords or ladies, the prince or the king (well, _maybe_ he did, he's sure he's wronged one or two of them). They quite liked him, actually, since he knew when to keep his mouth shut. It was just... Why make connections when he knew he didn't want to partake in politics as his parents wanted him to—as they _expected_ him to do, as the head of the next generation of the Lee family.

"Minho." Abeoji Lee ushered his son to canter his horse beside him, turning to the sorcerer with a frown. "We're attending the young prince's party and his return from the North. Do you understand the significance of our arrival?"

Minho opens his mouth, but is promptly interrupted by his father's exclaims, "The other realms are attending. This is your chance to gain a few allies around the other kingdoms."

"Why are they attending?" Minho flicks off a stray strand of orange fur off his sleeve. "I don't think this is the best time for them to visit the capital."

"It isn't. Gods know it isn't." His father sighs, gesturing to the silhouette of the castle ways away as they neared the town, already lit up and sparkling as a new replacement to the setting sun. "But, if they see that there's someone among the humans with half of a brain maybe then, they'll think about fortifying a treaty. You can start making a difference before you even take a step into the war room."

"But most of all, Minho," Eomeoni Lee pipes up from behind the two. "Most of all, you represent the Lee family. So instead of hiding at the rooftops or sitting around in the gardens, go around the party and get people to like you."

"And." Abeoji Lee smiles. "You're still young. Have fun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY EDITOR AND FRIEND @burntt._.toastt (On Instagram) !! <3 I'm dedicating this fic for you boo, thank you so much for editing many of my stories and helping me with the research! <333
> 
> BUT WELCOME, WELCOME TO "Playing Among The Stars" I've been SUPER excited to share with work with y'all !! 
> 
> This is my first time writing a fantasy story so be nice y'all :/ BUT I'm having so much fun writing this :) As always, I'll be updating on Mondays, Wednesdays, and every other Friday :))
> 
> I hope y'all stay on this journey with me! So excited to share more with y'all!! <333
> 
> I hope y'all enjoyed the first chapter, thank y'all so much for supporting me!! 
> 
> Much Love <3 Ly


	4. - Ch. 2 -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maps like these will be shown at the beginning of the chapters that need it for reference :))

* * *

The party was nothing short of lavish and prospering enjoyment, the gentry (including Minho himself) indulging in the celebration between the harsh summer months and the busy days.

Minho had always accessed the castle, however, seeing it decorated in flowers and lit up by sparkling lights; he's never seen this part of the capital so alive before. Though maybe that was through his own faults for avoiding these parties, anyway. There were fountains of ale, an endless supply of food, and commodities laid out for the guests as they talked with one another; lords and ladies, and a few classes below rich enough to afford to enter clad in their best outfits.

There were not just humans too, but also the elves, dwarfs, orcs, lizardfolk, and everything in between attended under a similar peace between each faction. There was no fighting tonight, just a celebration for the prince's birthday.

However, Minho could still recognize the tension between each kingdom whenever they glance at each other: the disgust in the elves as orcs or lizardfolk walk by, or the dwarves' scoffs at the humans, the lizard folks' borderline hiss at the orcs, and the orcs silent threats toward the elves. Minho knew that if half of them weren't already drunk off their asses, there would've been a war inside the Great Hall.

But in the humans' territory, they had to abide by the humans' laws. For now, there was peace, though laughably forced. It was almost hilarious to see the orcs, the elves, the dwarves and the lizardfolk force a positive reaction at each other's jokes and pointless chatter.

"Yah. I didn't expect you to attend." Minho perks up at a familiar rough voice, glancing back to see a buff man in a black and red doublet, silver hair brushed back and styled from his eyes. "I thought it'd be another year of me trying to entertain myself, trying to keep up your image since you don't do it yourself."

"My parents wanted me to go." Minho sighs, gesturing to Changbin. "I'm surprised _you_ aren't passed-out drunk in a ditch somewhere. That's not exactly helping me keep up my image."

"Not yet. Not today." Changbin laughs, a wide smile spreading on his face. He glances around the party, grabbing a glass of liquor from the table before wrapping an arm around Minho's shoulder. The sorcerer automatically lends an ear to the younger, for he knew that smile all too well: Changbin had news to tell him, this eavesdropping bastard.

Though he takes a sip of his drink first, sighing and nodding at the taste before ushering Minho closer.

"I heard, from a little bird flying around the hall, that they're going to announce the one who's hosting the Harvest Festival this year." Minho arched an eyebrow, whipping his head toward the shorter. " _Tonight."_

"Why tonight? The festival isn't until autumn."

"I don't know." Changbin shrugs, leading them away from the table and sauntering down the hall, avoiding a few wandering ears. "I just know that this year's festival might be the biggest one ever. Don't you think I'll get it?"

The younger was all for the lavish and the rich entertainment of parties. Unlike the Lees, the Seos dealt more with trade, bringing a large sum of commerce into The Capital. And unlike Minho, Changbin had an enormous interest in his natural craft, already making ways to take over the family business. But in _no_ way was _Seo_ Changbin capable of hosting a festival considered being the biggest holiday of the year. He wasn't trying to downplay the younger's talents; Changbin was definitely talented. But the prince choosing Changbin as the year's host? _Please_ don't make Minho laugh. If anything, Changbin would host a great drunk feast at the local tavern, _not_ a sophisticated festival that the entire kingdom celebrated.

But Minho digresses, the prince announcing this year's festival host, is definitely unexpected. This early in the year, during his birthday, no less. But then again, this _was_ just a rumor after all. Either everyone went home disappointed or drunk (the more Minho thought about it, that should be a normal occurrence). Though no one exactly knew _why_ the prince would choose someone this early in the year.

"Minho! Minho! Come over here!" The two perk up at the sight of Abeoji Lee waving Minho over. Changbin scoffs, laughing at his friend's deadpan before gesturing to Abeoji Lee.

"Destiny awaits. Your father is calling for you."

"I can see that. You know what? Let's get shit-faced drunk later. Meet me by the fountain, bring a lot of liquor." Minho brushes off Changbin's hand on his shoulder as he heads toward his parents and a small group of elves and humans they mingled with. 

Once close enough, Eomeoni Lee tugs Minho closer, pushing him between her and Abeoji Lee, smiling and tilting her head down in respect toward the elves. "This is our son, Minho Lee, he's also the heir to the family."

"I heard from your father you're studying to be the head advisor to the king," one said.

"A powerful sorcerer too, maybe the best the Lees has had in the last four generations," another says.

"I don't think that's the case until we see for ourselves. How about it? Should we have a duel out in the gardens?"

"I think he'll turn you into a snail, Calen. Don't provoke the boy, he seems like someone who won't even hesitate." They all burst into light laughter before another speaks up.

"So, what are you studying to be specifically? Do you have any visions where you could take this kingdom?"

Abeoji Lee nudges Minho's side, the latter turning toward him with knitted brows. Maybe Abeoji Lee knew Minho more than he expected, already giving Minho a silent warning before the younger even opened his mouth. Maybe Minho already went against his family's wishes long enough that they expected his behavior before they even attended the party, and his parents were only there to hold his hand and create good impressions. Gods know that Minho wouldn't be able to hold up his family image with what he does, and what he wants to be.

 _They'd laugh at you_. His father would say. _In the elven kingdoms, they call those stablehands._

 _The Orcs would see you as an easy target. Dwarves would have no use for you. The only people you might fit in is with the lizardfolk, which might be a tremendous step down from any other kingdom,_ or some other that family and friends of the Lees haven't already told him.

Not that Minho was openly disobeying his parents. He didn't want to disobey his parents, however, he couldn't live for politics or whatever the hell his destiny called him to do. So what if the elves laugh at him or the orcs beat him down, the dwarves spit at his face, or the lizardfolk hiss at him? Was there _never_ a point in history where a Lee settled down peacefully without interfering in the battles within the empire? Where they just used their magic for trivial chores such as carrying water back home, or lifting the couches to reach the nooks and crannies dust hid in? Was their magic _too_ powerful to restrain for the rest of their lives?

But sure, Minho should indulge his parents just this once. This was the prince's birthday party, anyway. He didn't want to cause a commotion just because he spat at the face of his _"destiny."_ Why not impress a few with exaggerated lies?

"I'm planning to take an apprenticeship under the current royal court of sorcerers." Minho smiles, gesturing about with his cup of liquor to at least look nonchalant. Or a pretentious know-all, either works. Can elves pick out absolute _bullshit_? "I'm already looking forward to an apprenticeship under the head advisor, my grandfather actually. And considering the path I'm planning to take this kingdom, I want to establish a secure trade route with your brethren in the East. I know how there have been many Orc invasions on the Dryads, and I think that protecting them could provide benefits for both parties." Minho hums. "And I think that it'd be beneficial to send some envoys to the Dwarven Kingdoms. They're awfully quiet recently, aren't they?"

"Ambitious, aren't you?" The tallest smiles, gesturing to Abeoji Lee. "You take after your father. We served in the military together when we pushed back the Orcs."

"Well, there's much to expect from a Lee," another said. "In my opinion, their youngest kin could rule better than the idiot sitting on that throne." They all turn to the prince hosting the party, laughing and cheering with the other lords that sat near him, sitting at the head of the table on the other side of the hall. "From what I heard, he's completely useless. He did nothing during his visit to the North, yet he's here acting like a noble warrior."

"That's why the Lee family are here as advisors," Abeoji Lee says, nodding to Minho with a bright smile. "There are incompetent rulers that succeed great rulers from time to time, it's just a natural way of life. But as court sorcerers and advisors, we keep the kingdom from taking a nosedive."

"And Amen to that." An elf scoffs, downing his liquor. "As much as I think expanding the empire is a considerable future, I want to preserve our human alliances."

"Speaking of which, the king is standing up. At least he's someone that could lead this kingdom to glory, for now."

The group turns around as a hush fell over the party, all glancing toward the king that stood at the head of the table at the end of the hall, waiting for everyone's attention placed on him. The music stops, and the anticipation doubled tenfold within each person. They were all expecting news, but then again, this was a birthday. For all they knew, he could only be thanking his patrons and hoping for a glorious future. 

But they shouldn't get their hopes up. Minho actually agreed with the elves when they said that the prince was an incompetent leader.

"First, I would like to thank everyone for celebrating the prince's birthday and his return from the North. The kingdom appreciates every one of your gifts and your everlasting loyalty to the throne. I would also love to welcome our guests that took the time to attend this celebration. I hope everything is to your liking and appreciate the truce everyone falls under. However, I know that each of us has our own trials and tribulations, which I hope we can get through together." The king turns to the prince sitting beside him with a smile, nodding. "Before we get back to the celebration, my son, the prince, has something to say."

"Thank you father," the prince said, standing up with a bow toward the king, glancing around as his voice resonated throughout the hall. Everyone's attention heightened at the pause, intently listening and anticipating his next careful choice of words. "As many of you know, I recently returned from a diplomatic passage from the North, visiting our elven neighbors. However, while they received me with extraordinary hospitality, I also realized that there are many things that set us apart—all realms are hostile toward one another, some more so than others."

"Did he barely figure that out?" An elf beside Minho scoffs to himself, the sorcerer biting back a laugh lest he wanted his tongue cut off.

"It's easy to get lost in our own troubles and pleasures that we forget what's really going on around us. However, I would like to start a difference even before my destiny comes to fruition. We all should." He pauses before glancing to the king who gave him a reassuring nod. "I'll be announcing the host for the Harvest Festival."

Though already silent, a deathly chill settled onto the group, a tense feeling of anticipation and hidden hostility toward each other. This was what everyone looked forward to. Rumors proved real. Though despite the encouraging speech about bringing others together, this news would certainly set the opposite.

"I know it's barely summer, it's not until five months before the festival. However, many of us hold this festival close to our hearts, it's a universal festival and considered as the most important holiday throughout the Five Realms. That's why I would like for this festival to bring everyone together, a celebration so grand and universal that there's no matter in class, race or gender. This year could truly be a turning point between all the realms, we could start a new era of peace and prosperity. So I chose someone the throne has trusted for generations and more, as the right hand to this festival."

He smiles brightly, taking in a breath as his eyes momentarily find Minho standing in the grand hall, nodding.

"The Lee family, more specifically, Lee _Minho."_


	5. - Ch. 3 -

"I _just_ don't get it! I don't understand! The prince is completely fucking stupid!"

"Lower your voice, hyung. You're a Lee but if you shout it any louder, you'll end up spending the night at the dungeon." Changbin groans, rolling over to his stomach and laying his head on his arms with eyes shut. "But yes, I agree. He could've given the honor to someone much more handsome, for example: me."

"It's just..." Minho sighs, patting the Enfield that laid its snout onto his knee, asking him to play. But he only gestures to the other creatures playing about in the field, scolding one of the winged creatures for almost setting fire to the field. " _Why me?_ There are ten other Lees who would do a better job. A hundred other people who are more competent. He's really risking it all, isn't he?"

"Yeah. Anyway, you didn't get drunk with me last night. You just disappeared, and I had to spend my night alone by the fountain." Changbin huffs, waving off the Enfield that tried to seek some play from him instead, licking his face and wagging its tail. Though the man only turns away from the fox-like creature, pressing his cheek against Minho's thigh. "And now I have a fucking headache—can one of your animals produce hangover soup or something?"

"Why are you so nonchalant about this??" Minho exclaims.

"Because it's a tremendous honor for the prince to choose _you_ as the host! Aren't you happy?"

"No!" Minho takes a breath, shaking his head and shutting his eyes.

It's not that he was ungrateful for the opportunity—it _is_ a huge honor to host the festival. Anyone would kill for his position. In all honesty, the moment the prince announced this honor upon Minho, Minho swore he could feel a few glares on him. He knew that his reputation, however constant it may be for ignoring it all this time, might've dropped a little.

There were many people opposed to this decision, including Minho. Shouldn't the prince place this immense responsibility on someone more... _responsible?_ Just because he was a Lee didn't mean he could satisfy the high bar set by the previous hosts of the show.

Like the prince mentioned, the harvest festival was the most important holiday of the year, a three-day celebration of the blessings of the Gods and a successful harvest season. However, being the host also meant providing a show and a theme for the festival to entertain the public. Last year it had been a floral show (a little weird, in Minho's opinion, since it's _autumn)_ , the year before that was a water show, and so on.

Though what could Minho _do??_ While the Lees were exceptional at magic and held in highest regard considering politics, everyone also knew that they were _probably_ the deepest a stick in mud could be.

The elves were right about the prince's stupidity, and Minho worried for the kingdom's future.

"Hey, you'll do great." Changbin lifts his head at his friend's hesitance. "You'll think of something. You always do, you're Lee Minho!"

"I don't know..." Minho huffs, shrugging. "I think I should just... leave. Just migrate to the South or something, hopefully no one ever finds me again."

"I think it'll be better than hearing your parents' lecture again. I mean, I can already hear what they're going to say to you when you go home." Changbin laughs, shrugging. " _You're a Lee. The Lees don't make mistakes!"_

"Don't remind me, please." Minho groans, though perks up at the sight of someone walking toward them, hitting Changbin's shoulder. "Yah. Seungmin's here."

"Now? Geez, what did we do?"

"Why, did you throw up in his garden again last night?"

"No..." Changbin sits up, furrowing his brows as the puppy-eyed individual walked closer, almost getting attacked by a Calygreyhound on the way if Minho hadn't whistled to get its attention (though he would gladly let the creature attack him). "At least I don't think so? Oh, Gods... _Did I??"_

"Yah. You two—" Seungmin points a threatening finger at the two. "I've been looking for you two everywhere! Especially you, Minho! Your parents are angry with you."

"When are they not?" Minho shrugs, Seungmin crossing his arms.

"No, they're seriously angry with you this time. I heard what you did last night—it's basically the talk of the town."

"Why, what did he do?" Changbin asks.

"Yah. How come Seungmin knows, and he wasn't even there?" Minho scoffs.

"I was drunk, remember?"

"Minho talked back to the prince," Seungmin says. "Right after he announced the host."

A pause. A _very_ long pause.

"You _what??"_

"It's not that big of a deal! He and I are friends. Friends could do that!" Minho dismisses.

"Right, but not in public, when he's addressing something _highly_ diplomatic and political in front of the other four _Realms_. You guys weren't out enjoying a cup of tea!"

"Also, I'm sure you guys are at most warm acquaintances," Seungmin says.

"But it's a birthday party, same thing!" Minho scoffs. Though Changbin had a point. Minho didn't mean to talk back in public—he _meant_ to pull the prince aside at the end of the night when the ale truly kicked in, regrets made easily (though Minho didn't need to be drunk to embarrass himself and his family, he guessed). But the words just came out too fast, too late. That was such an _idiotic_ decision. Even Minho tried to stop the words that fumbled out of his mouth. Now that he thought about it, maybe people glared at him because of his sudden, rude behavior, not because the prince chose him.

"I can just imagine it—a _Lee_ just talking back to royalty in public and embarrassing the family name." Changbin nods with a smug smile as the older stands, dusting himself off. He whistles to get all the creatures' attention, breaking apart from their play and running toward the sorcerer.

"Changbin, you can't say anything, either," Seungmin says, staring at Changbin with crossed arms. "You threw up all over my fucking garden last night." 

**—-**

"So, do you have a plan for the festival?"

"Shh, don't bring that up. He's sensitive."

Minho turns around at the two, taking a seat at the couch. He deadpans, Changbin and Seungmin arching an eyebrow.

"Geez, I guess he _is_ sensitive..." Seungmin mumbles, sheepishly tilting his head down in thanks when Minho passive-aggressively hands them their cups of tea, a plate of pastries onto the coffee table. They were lucky Minho recently ran out of poison. "Sorry..."

"I already told him he should do a show with magic, but he said that was lame." Changbin waves a hand, taking a sip of his tea.

"What about your animals? Most of them are pretty well trained—they'd make an interesting show," Seungmin suggests.

"Right, but there's one problem." The sorcerer sighs, shaking his head when a Jackalope hops onto the table to avoid the Calgreyhound. He tries to ignore the sound of something clattering—probably the Glowbirds flying into pots and pans again. "They're strays. Not show animals. They come and go once they're healthy, and most of them don't listen a hundred percent. I just help them recover from injuries, nothing more."

"Really? Because from what I'm seeing, it seems like you're already running a circus." Changbin scoffs, though, apologizes immediately when Minho holds up a threatening hand. "But I agree with Seungmin. The animals are a good idea, and your parents will finally see worth in it."

" _If_ it succeeds," Seungmin points out.

"Right. If it succeeds. But I have confidence in our Lino. He's a bitch, but he has merit, goddamn it!"

Minho groans, falling back onto the couch as he digs the heels of his palm into his eyes. He was so doomed, wasn't he? At this point, disappointing the prince—no, not only the prince, but all attending leaders of the Five Realms might be the worst thing ever. It'll ruin him. Maybe, if they were merciful, they'll kill him. Even worse, he'll disappoint his parents, everyone around him—everything... Everything will be gone if he fucks it up.

"Look, if you're still unsure, maybe you can train a dragon. Like those showmen do to cockatrices every spring."

Minho perks up, staring wide-eyed at the puppy-eyed individual sitting beside him.

That was an idea. A perfectly sound idea, _better_ than magic or training regular creatures. It was an idea sure to impress _anyone,_ even the elves.

Though before Minho could voice his thoughts, Seungmin caught on to his staring, rolling his eyes. "It's a joke. Dragons aren't real."

"How is it a joke? That's a pretty good idea!"

"I don't know if you're being sarcastic or...?"

" _Look."_ Minho shoots up to his feet, running over to the nearest bookshelf, scouring through its contents. "What do we know about dragons?"

"They're extinct," Changbin says, taking a bite out of a pastry Minho recently baked. "Ruled over and terrorized people and creatures since the beginning of time or whatever."

"Right, but there _are_ places rumored to have dragons, right?" Minho asks, groaning in frustration when he couldn't find a history book on dragons. Though now that he thinks about it, maybe he threw it away or burned it for warmth on a chilly winter day. History was never his thing. "What I'm trying to say is that dragons could still be a thing. There are no fossils, no evidence of their extinction. But there are so many historically proven records of them that they can't _not_ be real. They also couldn't have just disappeared out of nowhere, you know?"

"Hyung..." Changbin clears his throat, pointing at the pastry. "First of all, these are pretty good. Second, I hope you know how crazy you sound right now."

"I'm not crazy! I'm presenting you guys with a reasonable argument! And if I succeed in this, this might go down as one of the best shows that ever graced the Harvest Festival." Okay, Minho _might_ admit that he sounded a little crazy. But that was beside the point! Having a dragon show for this year's festival might be the best course of action, considering how he received the news during the party last night.

Most people at the party must've thought of it as a joke, Minho included. A Lee hosting a festival? Not only that, _Lee Minho_ choreographing a show?

He might've laughed at the slim chance of Changbin getting the opportunity, but he cackles at his own chances; nothing is impossible, he guessed. And if there was the chance that the prince picked him, then there might as well be a chance that dragons were real.

"Yah! You two! Out!" Minho barks, Seungmin and Changbin perking up as the older scrambles about, scurrying back and forth with different creatures chasing after him, thinking he meant to play. Though he ignored most of them, already used to their antics as he ushers them outside to the enclosed garden, locking the door.

"What? Why?" Changbin sputters.

"I have to go somewhere! Now out! Out!" Minho yanked them to their feet, Seungmin going willingly. Changbin, however, held back, fighting against the older to grab a few more pastries—no, the entire plate instead, before joining the puppy-eyed individual outside.

"Shouldn't you visit your parents?" Seungmin asks as Minho locks his office and waves him off.

"Not now! Maybe later!" Minho smiles, running off. Though he turns back around to yell, "But can you tell them I'm busy? They can yell at me some other day!"


	6. - Ch. 4 -

Never mind the prince being stupid! Seungmin was so _so_ stupid.

Why did he think it was a good idea to suggest, _joke_ about dragons when Minho was in a predicament himself? That something so grand and possible seemed enticing enough to lure Minho into this deep pit of so much regret.

This must’ve been some sort of ploy! He _should’ve_ known Minho was a gullible piece of shit, willing to take any idea into consideration. He was desperate, and even though he had approximately five months, three days, thirteen hours, fifty-five minutes, and two seconds before the festival, _that_ was a precious five months, three days, thirteen hours, fifty-five minutes, and two seconds; there wasn’t a second to lose.

Minho just... _didn’t_ know what to do. The Harvest Festival was one of the most important holidays of the year, and it’s a tremendous responsibility bestowed upon him. It’s even more immense when the prince wanted this particular festival to not only include humans but elves, orcs, dwarves, Lizardfolk—essentially _this_ festival might be one of the things that’s keeping the realms from war. If Minho fucks this up, then he _truly_ fucked up.

Minho might consider the shame he brings upon his family and himself from the highest leaders of the realm a fate worse than death. He couldn’t let that happen—he didn’t want to be the Lee that _fucked_ everything up, the one who would give his family name a sour taste once spoken.

The one who couldn’t do anything right.

“I thought you would never come here again.”

“Ah, I just need more books on dragons.” Minho nods to his uncle as he stepped into the archives. A nostalgic musty smell of old books hits his nose, and the slightly chilly temperature, despite the hot weather outside, made him shiver. He stopped studying here years ago, reasoning being he couldn’t focus within the archives. Props to his uncle who almost lives his every waking moment in here.

“ _More_?” His uncle arched an eyebrow, looking past his glasses. “Why the sudden interest? You hate history.”

“Just... Research.” Minho hums. “I’m studying dragons to see if there’s a way I could make a protection spell based upon their scales.”

“Well—alright. I don’t think that should be in your best interest right now, though. Shouldn’t you be preparing for the festival?” The older asks, though standing. He gestures for Minho to follow him, leading him down some forgotten aisle in the corner—where the history books were.

“I am,” Minho said. “It’s still in progress.”

“There it is. These two shelves are all about dragons. And this one is the history of them. If you want more information, dragons should also dot some of these history books, it’ll be nice to get other points of views. Particularly...” The man pulls out a leather-bound book, dusting off the top. “Daenerys, the—”

“This is all I needed, thank you.” Minho waves him off, though perks up. “Uncle, say… Could I borrow all of these from you?”

**—-**

It wasn’t easy trying to catch up on thousands of history about dragons, especially when Minho practically skipped out on all of his history lessons since the start of his studies. Though dragons were a huge part of history, desperate times _do_ call for desperate measures.

Though the last anyone had seen a dragon was three thousand and some other hundred years ago. ‘The Last Survivor,’ they called it, though promptly disappeared after its sighting. _Disappeared,_ not killed. There was only one record of people killing a dragon, more out of sheer luck than skill. Otherwise, there was no reason for their disappearance.

Did they migrate? Why would they? Before that, they lived contently on this land, There was no competition in food, for they ate any living thing, and there _certainly_ isn’t competition in other species or anything. The only cause could be the sudden drops in temperature, but then again dragons lived through that for years.

Many people say they’re extinct, but Minho simply thinks that they’ve disappeared—or in hiding. From what? Minho didn’t know, but there was no evidence of their extinction, no bones or artifacts or preserved bodies. Nothing.

It didn’t help that Minho wanted to burn every single one of these books—they were _that_ frustrating. Some accounts didn’t match up with others, while a few seemed so outlandish that it’s ridiculous that historians proved them as accurate. Minho called himself an avid reader, but _goddamn it_ , he would rather let a Griffin tear apart these books if he could. He and history just _didn’t_ get along.

Though Minho set up a small work area in his office building, spread out a huge amalgamation of different maps to create a complete, vast map, and wrote the dragons’ last sightings in the fifth edition of his ‘ _Dragon Research Notes’ (written by Minho Lee)_. Some in the elven region, a few over the dwarves’. Though particularly a lot more toward the orcs, many more by the coast. That would’ve meant that they—

“Minho! What the hell are you doing?!”

Minho glances up and recognizes his parents walk into the building, a creature or two at their heels and wagging their tails at the visitor. Soonie was there too, jumping onto the table and sniffing all of Minho’s work before nudging her nose under the sorcerer’s hand.

“You’ve been avoiding us for the past week! And now—now you live in this pigsty!” Minho follows Eomeoni Lee’s frantic gestures around the room. Many, _many_ books stacked, some open on the floor, others on the couch. _Much more_ notes and papers everywhere, all information on dragons Minho recorded. There were numerous empty inkwells stacked very carefully at the foot of his desk in some weird statuette (he got bored that one time), and an enormous map kept in place with books and knives—Changbin was right. Minho _did_ seem crazy. But all of this was necessary. Maybe not the tower of inkwells, but everything else.

“I’m conducting a research, Eomma, Appa,” Minho says, returning to writing onto a sheet of paper before his train of thoughts left him.

“Research?? You should prepare for the festival, not going over dragons!” Abeoji Lee sputters, truly worried at his son’s slow descent into madness.

“I _am_ preparing for the festival!” Minho halts, reading over a passage from a peasant diary recorded a few hundred years ago. Their lord sent them to an island northeast of the orcs, in search of rumored riches at the valley. He reads it again, and again, before glancing up at his parents. “What’s on Linnormr?”

“Minho—could you _please_ stop what you’re doing and listen to us for a second?” Eomeoni Lee asks.

Minho waves them off, searching for an empty island northeast of the Orc territories—Linnormr, an island recorded a long time ago in a search for expansion, however, recorded as a failure because of the many creatures and eruptions that killed many. It’s a place of casualties and myths—also the last place someone saw a dragon, a _couple hundred_ years ago.

That island is a desolate wasteland—perfect for dragons to reside without human interaction. And it also provided enough food, mostly gristly creatures and trolls, to give enough provisions for a few dragons.

“Minho!” Abeoji Lee yells, yanking the sorcerer back from his thoughts. “ _Listen_ for a damn second! Your mother and I worry about you!”

“You don’t need to worry, I have an idea.”

“Son, _what is wrong_ with you?” Eomeoni Lee frowns, placing a hand on her chest. “First you spoke back to the prince, now you’re doing _this??_ Despite our resistance, we still allowed you to take care of creatures and animals, but this is just absurd! You aren’t listening to your parents!”

“I listen. I just don’t like what you guys say.”

“ _Minho!”_

“Eomma!” Minho huffs, running a hand through his hair. “I get that you guys care of me, and I love you guys too! But, _please,_ you two should let me do what I want to do, what I want to be, and what I want for myself! All you two do is berate me— _Minho don’t do this and that. Son, you don’t know any better, do this instead._ _Minho, you can’t take care of animals be a political figure instead—_ because heavens know you can’t do things on your own! You two should let me take care of my own responsibilities and irresponsibilities!”

“We’re only trying to do what’s best for you!” Abeoji Lee says. “You know how it’s a harsh and unforgiving world—”

“Oh, here we go again.” Minho scoffs. “Did you even _listen_ to what I _just_ said?”

“Minho! Don’t you remember what you did at the party last week? When left to your devices, you always mess things up!”

“Right, because that’s what I am, aren’t I? A damn _‘mess-up.’_ “ The sorcerer hisses, scratching his head in frustration as his fingers fall limp against the table. He didn’t have time for this. He didn’t want to fight with his parents. Not when he could finally start with his plans. And he just _never_ wanted to get in fights with his parents. “I’m leaving soon.”

“Leaving? What do you mean, leaving?” Eomeoni Lee asks.

“I have an idea for the festival, and in order to do it, I have to leave. I’m traveling northeast.”

“An idea?? What kind of idea needs for you to leave—have you forgotten that the festival is in four months? This isn’t a time for a vacation, Minho!” Abeoji Lee groans, though he perks up, eyes glossing over the books and information about dragons, locations, and — ”You’re trying to find a dragon, aren’t you?”

“Goodness, Minho, _what_ has gotten into you?” Eomeoni Lee scratches her head, almost pulling her hair as she strides toward the sorcerer. She takes both of his hands in hers, knitting her brows as she stared up at him. “First you’re taking care of strays picked up from the street, now you’re looking for a species that went _extinct_ millennia ago! Have you lost your mind?”

“Maybe I have. You two’s standards are so high, I feel like dragons are the only way to please you.” Minho scoffs yanking his hand away. Though his gaze softens at the look his mother gives him. “Eomma, Appa... _I_ _want_ to do this. No one’s making me search for dragons, not the prince, not the king, the gods, or otherwise. I want to impress everyone at the festival.”

“You can’t impress everyone, that’s just a natural way of life! Why don’t you impress others some other way? Like your magic, hell, even put on your animals in some act, “Abeoji Lee exclaims. “Your destiny is here, in the capital. Not running a fool’s errand!”

“How do you know my destiny is here or somewhere else? Do you two have an explicit connection with fate? Do you talk to the Gods? If it’s my destiny to continue living like this, then she’ll try to stop me from leaving. Either that or I die trying,” Minho huffs, though gesturing to the door. “Please leave. I’ll visit you two before I leave to say my goodbyes. Thank you.”

“Minho please,” Eomeoni Lee pleads, grabbing her son’s hand one more time. Though Minho knits his brows, frowning. “Please don’t do this to me and your father. You could die out there!”


	7. - Ch. 5 -

"I can't believe you're actually doing this."

"You know what?" Minho takes a deep breath, taking in the fresh morning air, the sun barely peeking from between the surrounding mountains. His horse nickered at the sense of a new journey, and Minho's heart thrummed in excitement similarly. The birds sang, barely waking up, the crows cawed and few peasants woke up to start their daily jobs. This felt like a new start. Something was calling out for Minho, he could feel it. Or maybe it was just the lack of sleep. "Me too."

Changbin huffs, crossing his arms with a frown. Minho was a little surprised to see Seungmin and Changbin bid him goodbye—he thought those two wouldn't give a rat's ass if the older suddenly disappeared. But the thought made him giddy.

"You guys know what to do, right? For the Enfield and the Calygreyhound, they need to play outside at least once every other day. There's a lord coming by in a few days to pick up a young Griffin, but make sure that its temperature has gone down enough and it could finally eat proper food. Be careful though, it has a broken leg, and will most likely bite your hand off if you touch it," Minho says, words mixing and merging into one another as his thoughts ran faster than his mouth. "And—and don't let the Enfield try to eat the Jackalope or the Skvader. _Always_ keep them separated or monitor them. Usually she won't try anything, but around late afternoon, she gets a little hungry and—"

"Geez, we get it! We know what to do!" Changbin laughs, patting the older's back harshly. "You don't need to worry, we'll take care of your strays."

"I know I'm just... I'll miss them a lot..." Minho huffs, Seungmin offering him a reassuring smile that he returns. "I'm worried about them, I don't know when I'll return."

"Hyung, don't worry. When you come back, they'll be better than when you took care of them, you can count on us!" The puppy-eyed individual brightens.

"Right, but be careful. We don't want you coming back with a missing limb or something," Changbin jokes. "Did you already say goodbye to your parents?"

Minho nods, a sad smile gracing his lips. He'll miss his parents too, despite the restrictive guidelines they've placed on the sorcerer. It even broke his heart when his mother tried to stop him one last time out the door, bursting into tears that her son was leaving for the wilderness. All for what? Glory? Greatness? Was he coming back? Even Minho wasn't sure. But he reassured them he'll accomplish what he set out to do, he'll be back in time for the festival. He'll make them proud.

Minho whistles for Soonie, a marmalade cat bounding through the tall grass as she runs toward him. The sorcerer picks her up, settling her comfortably onto the front of the saddle, ears perking up and smelling the unfamiliar beast she rode on.

"Wait—you're taking Soonie??" Changbin sputters, Minho arching an eyebrow as he climbs onto his horse.

"Yes? Is that a problem?"

"I mean, yes! She's a house cat, for fuck's sake!"

"She'll be an adventurer too, won't she?" Minho coos, the said cat purring when fingers scratch the top of her head. When Changbin and Seungmin give him an absolutely dumbfounded look, the older waves them off. "She'll be fine. She's tougher than you guys think. Probably tougher than you, Binnie. Plus, last night she begged me to let her come along." A pause, a smile, and two scoffs coming from his friends. "She was very convincing."

"Alright, but I hope she comes back safe and sound. I'd rather lose you than lose Soonie." Seungmin frowns, but Minho flips him off.

"I'll go now. I'll miss you guys." Minho fakes a sob.

"Shut up and leave. How long are you going to stall?" Seungmin deadpans. "But I'll miss you too, hyung."

Minho didn't think he'll _ever_ admit it genuinely, not even on his deathbed. But standing before his friends, staring out to the open grasslands of the empire, he guessed he'll miss his all of _this_ too. 

**—-**

As expected, Minho didn't think the trip would be easy, especially since he was going on whim instead of a set journey.

Irresponsible and stupid, he knows, but exactly how far could history books and accounts from people on a species long thought to be extinct take him? Not far, he assured.

Though at least it wasn't a _complete_ goose chase, he had a location he needed to head toward:  
Linnormr. Though he had to go through the orcs' territory, and the nomad warriors aren't exactly _keen_ on letting humans through their territory. He had to disguise himself, lest he wanted to get shot.

Soonie, however, made the entire journey bearable. Having his companion around calmed otherwise frantic nerves, and the marmalade cat seemed as curious as Minho to see the world outside The Capital.

His parents were right,- though. Thieves and bandits ran the forests and plains, dark creatures and monsters kept Minho from having a good night's sleep. He momentarily wondered if journeys and expeditions would be safer if the realms united as the prince hoped to do.

Minho wasn't saying that that dream was impossible (he was searching for a dragon, for fuck's sake). But with how the prince ruled or the others' opinion of him—he needed to get his head out of the clouds and his feet to the ground.

Though he digresses. Minho shouldn't worry about the prince or anything political when he set out in the first place to avoid such topics. At least Soonie never brings it up.

"Don't you think you're being irrational, right now?" Minho scoffs, the marmalade cat's ears twitching. "I mean, I let you on this journey with me, and you're asking for more?"

Soonie blinks, glancing away before rubbing her paw against her face, scratching her snout.

"Right. Okay, fine—" Minho scoffs, pushing his bowl of food toward the animal. She happily meows, bending to finish the rest of Minho's dinner. "I'm too nice to you, I think. Yah, if I get attacked by a lycanthrope, I expect you to sacrifice yourself. That, or you carry your own weight for once."

Minho smiles, glancing around the tavern. It was a wonder how the two managed to sneak into the town under orc gazes. He hid under a cloak, however, keeping his head down despite the bustle of the town. Luckily, Minho came by a trading town, meaning that many merchants and traders from different realms set up shop near the trading route that weaved through the orc territories all the way to the dwarven kingdom. Meaning, Minho wasn't decapitated the moment he arrived. Though humans and elves were still forbidden, at least Minho could stay long enough for a meal—rather, _Soonie_ , to get a meal. Maybe even stay for a night.

Though, he needed to plan his next course of action. He's lived long enough to get past the orc borders, far enough to reach a trading town. Once he gets to Linnormr, then what? It's a desolate island with monsters the only thing that occupied its lands.

And what would happen if he _actually_ runs into a dragon? Hope it accepts an arm wrestle? Wish that it keels over at the mere sight of him? If anything, he'd be lucky he even gets to breathe the same air with a dragon— _if_ he encounters one.

He'll run. That's plan A—the _only_ plan he had.

Geez, he's so unprepared, wasn't he? Excitement got the better of him. But maybe he can think about that once he gets to the coast.

"You done?" Minho scoffs, resting his elbows onto the table as he gestures to the fiery-furred cat, licking her chops as she smells the empty bowl in search of any leftover scraps. "You owe me, you know? That was all for me. But you just ate half of it."

Soonie yawns, jumping down from the table.

"Yah. You're leaving now? Yah!" Minho barks as he places some coins onto the table, catching up with his cat. Soonie halts, jumping onto Minho's shoulder as the sorcerer narrows his eyes at her. "Oh. Now you're trying to pander me? You're so fake, you know? You know what? We're leaving."

While Minho accepts the lick on his cheek as some sort of payment as he heads out the tavern, he bumps into a tall individual, mumbling and bowing a small apology.

"Hey!" The orc calls for him, Minho cursing under his breath. He turns to Soonie, still on his shoulder, curled around him. "This is your fault. You're drawing too much attention—get off."

Soonie does _not_ get off, instead closing her eyes and yawning. 

"You! Hey, you!" The orc barks, grabbing Minho's shoulder. When he turns the sorcerer around, the latter tilts his head down, hiding behind the shadow of his cloak. He could still see how the olive green individual stood before him, clad in minimal armor over his muscular body. He was practically twice the size of Minho, the sorcerer holding bated breath as he timidly nods.

He bit back an attack spell when the orc leans down. Warnings about orcs from his parents and elven friends came flooding back to his mind. They skinned humans alive; they hang ears around their necks and tear down everything those barbarians came across. While Minho usually scoffed at the exaggerated cautions, he couldn't help but tremble under the gaze of this specific orc he ran into—just his luck!

"Your feline is a cute one." Minho could feel Soonie vibrating with a purr against him, the orc reaching up and petting her. "I've never seen a _manul_ so tame before. Usually, they eat children."

Minho forces a laugh, "Yeah. She's just a playful thing, isn't she?" He takes a step back, pulling the feline away from the orc. "If you'll excuse us."

With a bow, Minho turns on his heel and strides away, letting out a huff of breath he only realized he kept in. What did he have to fear? The new leaders of the orc tribes turned to more political ways instead of plundering and raiding towns. Not all orcs were bloodthirsty barbarians, he reassured himself. They wouldn't kill him like that, in the middle of a bustling town to set an example.

Though Minho turns to his side, scoffing at the marmalade cat that sat comfortably on his shoulder, wrapping herself around his neck with eyes closed in content.

This _ungrateful_ cat. 


	8. - Ch. 6 -

Minho had always been the one to forgive. He never liked to dwell in the past or hold a grudge against someone. He was the one to believe in second chances, especially if the action taken against him is nothing more than a mere accident. Though, even if it was on purpose, he wanted to give people a second chance (he was a staunch advocate for the very reliable and ancient proverb: Fool me once, shame on me; fool me twice, shame on you).

Though when Soonie acted cute for free food or clung to whoever provided her with the most benefits, Minho almost keeled over in disbelief. He thought he and Soonie were the best of buds! Two peas in a pod, cut from the same cloth? Though apparently the marmalade cat didn't even hesitate to leave Minho for a stranger if there was a potential reward of food.

A stray will always be stray, Minho was beginning to think that his companion was only using him.

So when he tries to convince someone to take him to Linnormr, he glances to the cat sitting on his shoulder to help him get to the island without spending a fortune. It had been a trust test that Soonie completely failed as she only glances away, ears flicking as if she didn't hear.

To say that Minho embarrassed himself because of his cat was an understatement.

Though no boatman wanted to take him to the island, much more even talk about it. It was as if the word itself was cursed, everyone perking up wide eyes and running from Minho at the mere mention of the name.

What was so bad about the island, anyway? Besides the man-eating trolls and the sea serpents that destroy boats, or the ravenous plants in the unforgiving forests. Not to mention the potential threat of dragons. Surely it can't be that bad! How could all of them cower before this island that not even money could convince them otherwise?

"I could take you to Linnormr."

"You can?!" Minho exclaims, turning to Soonie—actually, maybe he shouldn't bring the cat into this.

"Of course. For a hefty price." The boatman smiles, freckled cheeks rounding and bright, sly eyes turning into crescent moons behind the messy bangs of his blonde mullet. He brings his hands together, shrugging. "I'll take you to the island for your cat. How does that sound?"

"No. Absolutely not." Minho knew this was a scam. And as much of a two-face Soonie was, Minho still loved her. No _way_ he was giving his cat to a grimy seadog.

"Alright. How about this, friend, since I like you so much." He hums, gesturing about. "Five hundred gold."

 _Five_ _hundred?!_ Minho didn't have that kind of money! And if he did, he would've been stupid to bring so much to a dangerous journey. He already sold his horse to convince the other boatmen, but even _they_ didn't scam him. They were cowards, but at least they were honest, good men.

"Surely, you can lower it? We're—we're friends, right? You said do yourself!" Minho sputters, pleading with the boatman as he shrugs and leans against some stacked cargo.

"Sorry, friend. Take it or leave it, I have to survive," he says. "Plus, no one wants to go over there. It's dangerous. I'm not willing to stick out my neck for a friend a barely met." He turns to Soonie with a smile. "Of course, unless you give me your cat—"

"Not happening."

"Fine. Since your cat is so cute, how about a discount? Four hundred and ninety-nine."

"Off?"

"No." He rolls his eyes. "Gold." 

**—-**

This was crazy. This was _absolutely_ crazy.

Before leaving the capital, Minho had mapped out all the potential dangers he could run across: the orcs, the manticore den near the capital, the sea serpents, sirens, lycanthropes, harpies, hags, trolls, even the long-awaited dragons. He caught up on his attack spells, healing spells, and even a few calming spells to protect himself and Soonie; he was most prepared to fight these creatures if he ever came across them.

However, he was less prepared to... get money in a less than honest way. He's not prepared to _steal_ , is what he meant.

Stealing is an offense back in the capital not taken lightly. If someone had stolen something from the wrong person, they could even have the threat of death glaring down at them.

So, Minho's stolen nothing before, especially since he was a _Lee_. If a Lee was ever seen stealing something, the world might as well end.

Though, as he and Soonie hide in the bushes just behind a merchant stand, Minho tried to get Soonie to distract or steal from the merchant. She was, after all, just a cat and people either fall into two lanes before a cat: those who can't resist them, and those who throw things at the devils.

Minho was hoping for the former.

 _Hoping_ was the right word, though, since Soonie didn't even _flinch_ off the ground, yawning and glancing away. Geez, this journey was _really_ taking a toll on their relationship, wasn't it?

As usual, all responsibility was placed onto the sorcerer because of his good-for-nothing (but adorable and lovable in so many ways) companion.

He eyes the merchant as he places a few gold coins into a box under the counter, calling out for any other potential customers in the crowd of people that walked by his stand. With his heart thrumming in his chest, Minho holds up a shaky hand. He hoped he only had to do this once.

He stares at the box, wary of the merchant distracted by convincing a few people to buy his (sketchy) wares. Muttering an incantation, the box trembled before it shakily floated. He takes a deep breath, calming himself to keep the spell from failing. The box floats on by toward him, reaching for it once it was close enough. He stands, ready to bolt the other direction and hopefully never look back—though, halts.

Gods! He was a criminal! A horrible, lying, dirty criminal! How could he do this? How could he have hit rock bottom so fast? He could never look at himself in the mirror.

Maybe he should just return the money, find another way to—

"Hey!" Minho perks up at the merchant yelling, pointing a threatening finger at him. He pulls out a sword, unsheathing the weapon. "You're dead to me!"

On second thought, maybe Minho should just run.

**—-  
**

"If you don't mind me asking... Why do you want to go to Linnormr, anyway?"

Minho turns toward the sailor that stood beside him, staring out at the sea and the winds that provided a helping hand to their journey. It was a beautiful summer day, the fresh chill from the sea and the water welcomed by Minho and the small crew that managed the ship. The sky was blue, and the water reflected that same beauty, shimmering under the sun. Even Soonie seemed to bask under the beauty of the summer sun, leaving her comfort on Minho's shoulder for the view on the railing, sitting with her eyes closed as the wind brushed against her fiery fur.

"Why, is paying you five hundred pieces not good enough?" Minho scoffs, returning his gaze back to the sea instead of the scoundrel he stood next to. Seriously, he only had a penny to his name—no, not even a penny. He couldn't even afford the dust that gathered at his boots. The only things he had were the clothes on his back, Soonie, and a few books, all thanks to the greed that scoured Earth.

"It is, and I thank you for the business." He hums. "But no one wants to go to that cursed island. It makes me curious..."

"You know what they say. Curiosity killed the cat." Soonie perks up, Minho turning to her with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. "Not you."

"Still. You're _that_ desperate to go?"

"I'm just conducting research. Say, what's on that island, anyway? Why does no one want to go there?" Minho asks.

"It's a desolate wasteland, friend. How would anyone find value there? Unless..." The man whips his head toward Minho, leaning forward to catch his gaze with a thin smile. "No way... Did you find gold there??"

"Hah, I wish." The sorcerer scoffs. "But no. Say... What lives there? What kind of creatures inhabit that island?"

"Ah, nothing but monsters." The sailor taps on the wood with his knuckles, shaking his head. "Lots of giants. Lots of trolls. A few basilisks. Even by the shore, there are harpies. But there are a few sheep, a few goats that graze the field. Other than that, nothing."

"What about... What about dragons?" Minho asks, turning toward the sailor. "Anything about them on the island?"

"Dragons are just myths," the man says. "Let me tell you, you aren't the first to come to the island fascinated by those legends. They come, they go, they all die. I'm usually the one who takes them to Linnormr, too, since no one else wants to do it. Believe me when I say that it's good business—good business that I get from the idiocy of others. Including you, my friend."

"I'll survive, don't worry."

"Hah, that's what they all say." The man shakes his head with a laugh, gesturing to the sorcerer. "I've heard it all. I believe yours isn't different. Let me guess, you heard the dragon mythos, did some research, found out that Linnormr is a hotspot for those legends, and wanted to seek one, possibly capture one to get riches. Correct?"

"In a way... But no, that's not the reason I'm here."

"Eh, whatever floats your boat, friend. But you'll definitely die." The sailor perks up, eyes wide and holding up a finger. "Ah! One more thing. I don't know if you know about this, but you seem like you'd be interested. There are also legends of people—a clan living on Linnormr."

Minho arches an eyebrow, the small piece of information perking the sorcerer's interest. A clan of people? "I- I thought that there's no one living on Linnormr?"

"There isn't, these are just _rumors_. But this one is a little more recent. A long time ago, when the sailors were still taking travelers to Linnormr, there was a boatman who took a merchant to the island in search of gold. But before he left, he saw a person. Someone, looking at him from afar on a cliff. Legend has it they live with dragons."

People living with dragons... That sounds familiar. Minho remembers reading something about that in some book about dragons one late night. A group of people long ago who could train and speak to dragons, even harness the power of dragons. Of course, with the unreliable source (a madman famous for trying to prove that pigs were the actual monsters and were some sort of lycanthrope wrote the book) and the lack of evidence, Minho had all the reason to cal it absolute _bullshit._ Maybe people or small tribes lived in the forests of Linnormr but died out because of the monsters and the harsh weather. But _people_ who lived with _dragons_? Dragons themselves were already hard enough to believe. Why did people have to add another level of absurdity?

"Oh, we're here." Minho perks up as the man hits his chest, gesturing to the island as they approached. Despite the beautiful sight of the sea, an eerie mist hung around the island, surely providing nests for goblins. The air seemed to get chillier in the island's vicinity, and even Soonie who had been calm during their trip seemed to crouch and stare warily as they approached the shore.

The island was literally a thing from monster legends, and Minho didn't doubt the dangers it housed.

Beyond the shore was the forest filled with only Gods knew what, and beyond that, were mountains capped with white and chilly snow despite the summer weather. The boat stops close to the shore, dropping the anchor with the crew readying the boat for Minho.

"You're not rowing me to shore?" Minho asks when the freckled man gestures to the boat, throwing in two oars. Soonie jumped into the boat, already taking on the front thwart—much more confident compared to her coward owner.

"Oh, hell no. You didn't pay me. _Unless—"_

 _"_ Not happening." Minho enters the rowboat, taking a seat as the crew lowers it into the water. Grabbing the oars, Minho situates them on each side of the boat, glancing toward the island.

"Hey! Hope you find what you're looking for!" The man yells down at him, Minho grunting as he rows toward the rocky shore.

"I'll send you a letter if I need you to pick me up. And yes, I'll pay you back!" Minho yells back, huffing as the choppy waters fought against him. "What's your name?"

"Felix Lee! Take care, friend! Best wishes to you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that it seems like this is the only time we'll ever see Felix but ISTG HE'S GOING TO MAKE A RETURN LATER LMAO
> 
> But that isn't until much MUCH later :)
> 
> Much Love <3 Ly


	9. - Ch. 7 -

The initial rocky jolt as the boat hit the shore was at the very least satisfying. He’d finally step foot on Linnormr after about a week of travel and another of planning and research. He had wasted enough time barely thinking about his plans, and he didn’t even think he’d even get close to the island; Minho had thought that he’d die because of some dumb snake bite or by bandits on the way over. Thank the Gods that his voyage went by smoothly.

But this is where the real challenge should begin. Maybe finding a dragon _wasn’t_ the hardest thing to pull off, but instead traversing through the island safely without giants having him for dinner.

And as he stared out to the forest ahead of him, he had doubts. Was this the right thing to do? Was that seadog right? Were his friends and family right? Was _everyone_ who knew of his plans—were they right?

Was this just a fool’s errand?

At least, if he was to die, Soonie could run away and live as some sort of wildcat. He knew in his mind Soonie could pull it off. She was stronger than him.

Though before they could run into wolves or trolls or a Leshy, there was the initial problem with food. Last Minho checked, there was no tavern to eat at in Linnormr, nor did he want Soonie to eat him; he had to hunt something, especially before sundown. He and Soonie couldn’t search just yet, as they needed to set up camp for the night.

Luckily, they found an empty glade in the forest, the sky above finally visible since Minho first entered the woods. Though, Minho never exactly hunted before. He took care of animals—was this going against what he stood for?? He wasn’t exactly a vegetarian or anything of the sort, but at least he didn’t have to kill his own lunch.

He left Soonie at their camp, hoping that the cat could hunt a bird down or something (though knowing her, she’d probably just lay by the campfire). Minho went off toward the shore, hoping that there were crabs or a rabbit he could come across.

There was nothing. He hoped Soonie had a better hunt than him.

Though when he had returned, the marmalade cat was nowhere to be found. Not on the ground, not in a bush, or a tree trunk, a rock. Instead, she was up on a tree, crouched low and staring wide-eyed at Minho—she was stuck, wasn’t she?

“Soonie! Come down! Come on!” Minho held up his arms so the cat could have a safer journey down. She must’ve gotten herself stuck after chasing something—maybe food?

Though Soonie didn’t come down, and Minho wasn’t too keen on using his magic on the marmalade cat. Last time he did, Soonie had avoided him for days, and maybe even scratched him. This was just one problem after another, but then again, this wouldn’t have happened if Minho planned his trip a lot more thoroughly.

“Soonie, I have food! Come down! You can have it if you want—” Soonie perks up and as Minho held up his arms, thinking she’d come down, she only hissed and flattened her ears. “Soonie Lee, what has gotten into you?”

Soonie yowled, and as Minho glances around, something hit his head. 

**\---**

When Minho came to, he didn’t see the grassy green of the glade, or the sun shining on his face, or the trees above greeting him. Not the birds or the peaceful sounds of the forest. Not even Soonie cuddling up to him when he slept.

Instead, he stared at... a back—someone’s back—no, a _creature’s_ back. Dead, gray skin, scratched and bruised with a few mushrooms and twine growing out of some parts of it.

The sun was setting, meaning that Minho had been out for at least an hour, his head spinning, his saliva turning sour. Each blink felt heavy on his eyes, and _maybe_ he felt a little drunk (minus the bubbly feeling). Though as he tried to move, he only then realized the ropes around his wrists and ankles, trying to squirm in an attempt to get off. Hopefully, whatever was carrying him was nice enough to know he was awake and kindly put him down.

Though another creature came to view, and as he leaned down while walking to catch Minho’s gaze, he almost screamed.

The creature that looked at him had dead, sunken eyes, skin all wrinkly and peeling in parts. It had pointed ears and no hair. It also had no lips and no nose, but two holes for nostrils. Its teeth were large and dulled but canine-like—something to tear and gnash instead of chomp. And his reddened gums were clear and exposed, twine and horns sprouting from its head. It smiles—at least, Minho _thinks_. And when it opened its mouth to speak, it only came out as low grumbling.

“‘Is awake, yes, he is,” it said.

“Uh... Hi,” Minho laughs nervously, as the troll finally leans away from Minho. “Could you put me down, please? You know I won’t try anything, right?”

“Uh-uh. Man will run—man can’t run. Trullan break legs, yes, yes.”

Minho paled at that. Last he checked, he needed his legs.

They entered a cave, another troll within greeted the two. Skeletons of different species decorated the cave: humans, animals, even other trolls. The interior wasn’t just a cave, but an abandoned area that looked like humans lived in at one point, with wooden structures, stairs, a podium, tables, a large furnace. They had many possessions, mostly gold and riches, but there was also a stock of flesh and gore, making something rise in the back of Minho’s throat. Though he glances away, yelping as the troll hangs him upside down over a water-filled cauldron, still yet to simmer above the crackling fire.

But he finally had an unrestricted view of the three trolls, hunched over and gangly, though one was stubby. They all had the sunken, blackened eyes that stared curiously at Minho, as he tried to get out of his bounds. He wished he could pull off a control spell on them, but trolls were so stupid to be stupid, he knew it wouldn’t even affect them. And if it did, Minho was sure it would cause more harm than good.

“Man... man—man not come ‘ta land for long, is ‘im?”

“No, no. Man not on island for long time.”

“Looks riches. From ‘cross water, methinks.”

“Fellas, this is a misunderstanding,” Minho says, shaking his head. “I’m not human.”

They all tilt their heads in confusion as Minho continues.

“I... I turn into a werewolf! You know, wolf-y and... disgusting?”

They stare at each other before one says, “Me no like dog.”

“Too bad, me like dog.”

They all grumble and turn away, returning to... whatever the hell trolls do. But Minho noticed that one of them brought his bag along, trying to open the thing. Though he instead tears it open, staring at the books that fell out.

“Yah! Be careful with that!” Minho barks, the troll reaching for them. He opens one, grimaces, then heads to Minho.

“What words mean?” He asks, holding up the book right up to the sorcerer’s face.

“It’s a book about dragons.”

“Bah! Dragons... No like. Too much fire, not good eat, no, no.”

“Dragons? You’ve heard of dragons before?” Minho asks, wide eyes on the troll. He never thought he’d ask a troll of all things for information. But hey, desperate times call for desperate measures. And Minho _sure as hell_ was desperate as he dangled over a cauldron of simmering water.

“Yes, yes. Land... Over land, over sea, over sky. Dragon over mountain.” He makes gestures forward, presumably pointing toward the snow-capped mountains. “No like. Too hard.”

“So dragons are—Yah! You—Stop!” Minho bit back his tears as the troll throws the books into the fire, walking away to his brethren. It was as if his own children were just thrown into the fire right before his eyes.

Minho had to get out of here. Especially since he had an area he can search, albeit the information came from a troll... Then again, they were too _stupid_ to lie.

As Minho tries to wiggle one of his wrists out of the bounds, he tries to look for anything in the cave. There was a knife on the ground by the wood podium that the cauldron rested on. Though the trolls had bound the ropes too tight around his wrists and ankles, proving useless to his spells.

Though from the cave entrance, he notices a shadow slip inside, tail high, marmalade fur shining from the fire that lit the cave. She hid behind the rocks and the stalagmites to keep the trolls from seeing her. And as she leaps onto the wooden platform the cauldron was on, she glances up, eyes shining at Minho.

“Soonie! You came for me.” Minho felt like crying. But no! This was not the time! He could cry and hug and love Soonie once they were safe. He knew—He just _knew_ Soonie cared for him more than just food or riches! “Could you help me get out of here?”

Soonie glances around, staring at the rope that restricted Minho over the cauldron. She jumps onto the wooden railings then to Minho, clawing into his clothes for leverage before reaching the bounds, using the sorcerer’s boots to keep from slipping into the simmering cauldron of water below.

“Careful, careful.” Minho lifts his head to glance at the cat gnawing on the rope. He then looks toward the trolls, who were talking—maybe fighting with one another. It was enough to distract them from the obvious marmalade cat chewing through the rope.

Minho swung himself back and forth to keep from falling directly into the cauldron, doing so lightly to keep from disrupting Soonie. But as he felt himself drop slightly, held by not more than a few strands of rope left, he swung to the side, tearing the thing and sending him to the ground. Soonie fell beside him, shaking the dirt and grime from her fiery fur as the sorcerer slithered to the knife he saw near.

“Man! Man gone!” The troll exclaimed, Minho successfully cutting the bounds around his wrists. He makes quick work of the rope around his ankles, hiding in the podium's shadow, quick enough that the troll scouring the area didn’t notice him.

“Man gone! Food! No food!” They roared, Minho peeking past the podium. He sees a book that missed the fire, though a corner ruined. He reaches for it, sighing in relief when it had been his book of notes and records that had been unharmed.

“Man here! No leave! Break legs!” Minho yelps as a troll reached over the podium and grabbed him by the cloak, Soonie hissing as she climbs onto the troll’s arms and scratches its face.

“Dog! Dog! No dog!” The other troll exclaims, falling to its back and scrambling away. Minho breaks for the exit, Soonie bounding after him soon after and climbing to his shoulder.

When the trolls chase after him, Minho waves a hand, glancing back at the mouth of the caves. The rocks over the entrance followed the motion of his hand, falling on the trolls, a cloud of dust and debris clouding around them.

Though Minho didn’t stop to pat himself on the back, pushing through the forest to leave the monsters behind as much as possible. Trolls were tough, he was sure they’d come bumbling after him soon enough. Not to mention their overbearing grudges—if they find him again, he won’t get a second chance at life. The trees whizzed by him, the leaves and bushes turning into nothing more than blurred green lines in his vision, painted gold by the setting sun. He didn’t know where he was heading, just the opposite direction of the cave.

Though as he glances back toward the cave, he hissed when Soonie yowls, her claws digging into the sorcerer’s shoulder. When he turns back around, he runs into something steel-like, falling to the ground. Soonie scrambles to her feet, quickly climbing a tree to escape the danger they ran into.

Just one problem after another, the thing Minho ran into squirmed and wiggled. What he thought was a shiny rock, was actually a thigh, a hind leg connected to a clawed foot. It was connected to a scaly body, copper-like with an iridescent shine. A trail slid across the grass with sharp spines sprouting from its head down to the tip of its tail. As it lifted its head, Minho could see its long neck coming into view, twisting around the tree and staring at Minho—the sorcerer stared at death in the face.

It had yellow, glowing eyes, spikes protruding from the sides of its face and pointed backward, frills on the underside of its jaws, horns from the crown of its head. It snarled as it saw Minho, revealing sharpened teeth. And as it curled around the tree and headed toward the sorcerer, he only realized how much larger it was, its wings that connected from its back to its tail peek past the forest canopy.

Minho scrambled backward, eyes wide and heart halting despite his sprint here. He couldn’t feel his breaths, either, as if everything vital to survival was just sucked out of him.

Creeping toward Minho, it pushed itself onto its hind legs and shook the ground with its front legs in a roar. Minho’s soul finally returned to his body, scrambling to his feet and bolting the other way.

Okay, so he finally ran into a dragon! _Now what_?? This is what he had been planning for, what he looked and wanted to see! He proved others wrong and _yes,_ dragons are _real._ So _fucking_ real that that Minho noticed a blaze of fire shoot past him and set fire to the tree in front of him, almost disintegrating the entire thing into ash within seconds.

But he had the plan! Plan A was to run!

But maybe running was a bad idea...

Taking a deep breath and calming himself, Minho held up a hand and uprooted a tree, waving back to the dragon that chased him. But the beast pushed itself off the ground and into the sky, avoiding the tree flung at it.

Minho fell back as the dragon landed in front of him, the ground shaking in an earthquake that ripped through the entire planet. It stalked Minho, creeping closer as the sorcerer scrambled backward.

He swallowed a lump in his throat, his thoughts all over the place. He couldn’t conjure anything, or attack, as if the dragon was reading his mind, placing thoughts that intervened with his magic. The most he could do was tremble in fear, clutching the grass under his fingers that might as well be the last thing he could feel.

The boatman told him he’d die. Guess he was right.

Moreover, his parents told him he’d die. He should’ve listened. If not the notion that dragons weren’t real, but the actual threat that they posed. They were considered Gods in the Old Kingdom. What made Minho think he could attack one? Possibly tame one? If his pride hadn’t gotten in the way, maybe, he’ll still be with his parents.

Maybe he could repair his relationship with them. Maybe he wouldn’t have made his mother cry at his departure.

Staring upon the horned devil, Minho waited in bated breath for his death to befall upon him, the fire bubbling within the dragon’s jaws.

A figure fell from the trees above. He held a spear-like weapon, hitching the hook-like tip on one end behind the dragon’s teeth, yanking it away to aim the dragon fire in another direction. Using the weapon, he swings himself on top of the dragon, striking the side of its head. The man jumps down, taking a stance before the beast. But it had backed down, growling low and laying its head on its forelegs, backing down, thankfully, with little resistance.

The figure relaxes, but it was Minho’s turn to tense when he turned around at the sorcerer.

“Uh... Tha—“ Minho let out a squeak, scampering backward as the man sticks the weapon into the ground between his legs. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, his eyes narrowed behind the shadow of his hood. He lifts his weapon's blade close to the sorcerer's neck. “Who are you? Why are you here? Are you fucking _stupid_?”

“I- I- I—“ Minho leans away with a nervous laugh. He taps the weapon away, but the man only returned it to the sorcerer’s neck. “Minho Lee?”

“What are you doing on Beithir?”

“Beithir? You mean... Linnormr?”

“Answer me.”

“I’m here to... I came from The Capital and I’m looking for dragons—“

“As much as the next person. You’ve found one, now go back home.” The man hisses. Minho could breathe easier with the weapon gone from his neck, reaching up and rubbing the skin there to make sure that he was fine and well and—besides his heart basically ripping his chest from the inside, he’ll be fine. The man takes a step back, heading to the dragon and mounting the beast.

“Wait! Wait!” Minho scrambles to his feet, panting. Though he couldn’t feel his legs, and maybe he felt like passing out, he still had a mission to accomplish. “You... you’re one of them, right? You tame dragons?”

“What’s it look like? Did you think this was a dolphin?”

“Take me with you.”

“Not happening.” The man scoffs, waving Minho off. “You’re better off going back where you came from and... doing whatever the hell it is you do.”

“Listen, I’m from The Capital to host the year’s Harvest Festival and— _Look,_ I need your help.”

“Does it look like I care? Go home. Your human problems don’t affect us.”

“ _Wait—“_ Minho places a hand on the copper dragon, the man swatting his hand off with the weapon. The sorcerer knits his brows, staring up at the cloaked man. “I’m not leaving this island until I achieve what I came here to do.”

The man sighs, shaking his head. Though he frowns at Minho, a glimmer of hope bubbled within the sorcerer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> G a s p, who is this man??? And yes, shocker, dragons were real LMAO. (Guys pretend to be surprised).
> 
> And I'm pretty sure y'all know who this stranger is. Y'all are //probably// going to figure it out next chapter :)) But for those who need reassurance, his name will be r e v e a l e d in Chapter 9 LMAO AlOng with a character I KNOW y'all would love :)))
> 
> Anyway, enough about me giving y'all hints. Istg I'm too nice to y'all sometimes :))
> 
> Much Love <3 Ly.


	10. - Ch. 8 -

* * *

Honestly, Minho didn’t trust the man. He thought he had told him directions for a long walk on a short pier, sending him to his death for being so stubborn.

But, North. _North_ is all the man told him before flying off on the dragon, never to be seen again. Then again, did he have a choice? No. Now that he found out that dragons and dragon tamers were real, he needed to go through with phase two of his plan: actually—

Holy _fuck,_ dragons and dragon trainers were real.

Not only _real,_ but both came so close to killing him, experiencing the _very real_ threats posed toward anyone that came across them.

Everyone back at The Capital had said he was crazy, just adding more fuel to some non-existent flame. Though, he’ll admit, he sounded the _tiniest_ bit crazy back at home: borrowing almost all books about dragons he could find in the city, locking himself in his office to work on his research and plans, never seeing friends or family who all thought he had died, et cetera, et cetera. _But_ all evidence he placed on the table was plausible, and turned out to be real, so who came out on top? Minho did, he was _right_ all along (which, he also admits, sounded like something a crazy person would say).

And he had a witness too! _Soonie_ could testify that yes, a dragon almost ate him. And _because_ a dragon almost ate him, Minho fainted once the dragon left his sight.

Though the morning after, he headed north with newfound vigor. He had evidence; he had a direction, one plus one _should_ equal two. Unless Minho ends up dying on the way, or something happens that would make his equation equal forty-two. But if he could survive a dragon attack, he was sure he could survive anything else. Hell, he might as well be immortal at this point.

_North_ were the mountains. With Soonie on his shoulder and a spring in his step, he claimed some distance up the mountain, following the natural path at the base. However, there was no passage over or through the mountain without having to climb—Minho wasn’t too keen on climbing. He continued to travel west, trying to look for an area easier to climb.

The mountains are just too steep all the way around, separating the island into two areas.

Though, there _was,_ however, an opening, almost, between the mountains, cliffs either side of a large trench. A tiny river passed through it, fog settling in the large ravine as the sorcerer stood before its mouth.

This must’ve been where the man had wanted him to go. After all, this _seemed_ like the only way to bypass the mountains besides climbing the thing or rowing his boat around an entire island which could take up to at least a week. But Minho didn’t have such precious time, so as much as his stomach twisted at the horrors the ravine could house, he needed to push through (He was already _so_ over man-eating trolls). He’s already come this far. There was no turning back once he entered this. Whatever regrets he has in his life, he needed to resolve them now.

With a breath, Minho heads into the ravine, Soonie glancing up to awe at the tall cut sides of the mountain, like the blade of the Gods had sliced the Earth into two.

The walk took forever, borderline never-ending that Minho feared he ran into a curse—was he lost in the mist forever? All the rocks and debris looked the same, he couldn’t see the sky, the trajectory of sunlight was unmoving. But Minho continued on, clenching his fists to ready an attack spell if any monster were to lunge out of the mist.

The ravine was getting narrower and narrower, and Minho feared that this ravine only led to a dead end. Though slipping past the narrowest part of the ravine (Minho thanked every God out there for not getting stuck) the ravine got wider and wider from there.

There was an open area within the ravine, complete with growing grass, and many skeletons of different creatures. There were even whale bones stuck to the ground, a large fire and a herd of sheep grazing on the small patch of grass. Minho thought this was where the man lived, but he saw no hut, or dragon.

From his peripherals, he sees a giant exit from a nearby cave; the sorcerer scrambling behind a whale bone to hide from its sight.

The giant had grayish skin, almost tinted blue, a beard, though almost balding. He wore minimal clothing, mostly made of sheepskin, with bones dangling off his belt. He had unnatural proportions, with arms longer than they should be, figure gangly and taller than the whale bones that stuck out of the ground.

Dragging around a club, he crouched by the sheep, pushing them toward their pen near the ravine walls.

Just one problem after another. If trolls and dragons weren’t enough, might as well throw giants into the mix, right?

“Be quiet, okay?” Minho glances toward Soonie, carefully heading toward another whale bone to hide behind. Though too focused on the giant itself, Minho trips over a pile of human bones, scrambling for the safety of a boulder instead. Though it catches the giant’s attention, glancing toward Minho’s direction.

The sorcerer could feel the earth tremor with each step from the creature, slapping a hand over his mouth and biting back a squeak.

The giant stops. He kicks a pile of bones. He stares.

Soonie sneezes. 

Minho rolls out of the way when he notices the club crashing down on the boulder he hid behind, holding out both of his hands and harnessing fire onto his palms, projecting a stream of fire out to the giant. It groans, using its forearms to block the attack before it swings its club toward the sorcerer. Minho dodges the attack, the club instead smashing a whale bone into pieces.

Minho could see Soonie running for the exit on the other side of the clearing, following the cat right after. Muttering an incantation into his fist, Minho touches a boulder before heading toward the exit. Though the giants almost steps on Minho, the earth elemental Minho configured held up the giant’s foot, allowing for the sorcerer and the cat to escape the clearing, running down the ravine.

Running headfirst into the fog, Minho shuts his eyes at the blinding lights. He comes to a halt, however keeps his eyes shut. Was this heaven? Did he die? Did he just bypass the guardians of heaven’s gates? Peeking past his lashes, Minho stared out at the rolling fields before him, a welcomed sight from the dark forest to the never-ending ravine.

The grass was a rolling green, reminiscent of the summer glades back home, maybe even prettier. There was a forest on one side, but the mountains surrounded the entire valley. Minho was glad that he didn’t take the boat, as the only way into the valley was through the ravine or some obscure, dangerous mountain paths.

_This_ was summer incarnate, not the foggy, snow-capped mountains or the chilly aura around the island itself. Not being trapped, hung upside down over a cauldron, or almost getting eaten alive by a dragon.

But the fields, where multiple flowers sang and the trees waved, the sun shone and there was no trace of fog whatsoever; the blue sky humming down on the field.

“Wow. I didn’t think you’d make—”

“Holy fucking shit!” Minho jumps back, almost shrieking at the man that sat on a rocky ledge, arching an eyebrow at the sorcerer. Minho held his heart, huffing and crouching. Gods, his head hurt. “Have you been waiting there all along??”

“No. I watched you enter the giant’s lair. Impressive that you got out alive. I expected you to die.”

“Why, was that some test?”

“Maybe.”

“Alright, now that I passed, could you take me to your leader?”

“Leader?” The stranger asks. “What makes you think I have a leader?”

“I don’t think you’d be living out _here_ alone. Surely, you live with others, maybe a settlement?”

“And what if I am?”

Glancing up, Minho could see the man more clearly under the summer sun, shining down on his tanned skin as the surrounding fog lifted. He no longer wore his hood, his soft features clear to the sorcerer.

He looked... _normal._ Completely normal, like Minho or those back at the capital—not some warrior as monstrous, maybe more, than the dragons.

He had chubby cheeks, eyes accentuated by a smoky shadow. He wore leather-like armor, but it shone under the sunlight. It looked like metal; dragon armor, maybe?

But the thing that stood out most from the man was the blue hair. Fluffy, dark blue hair that he pushed away from his bright eyes.

“Then is... Is this it?” Minho stammers, shaking his head.

“Is this what?”

“Where you wanted me to go.”

“I only gave you a direction, not an exact location,” he says. “You’re on your own. Sorry, pal.”

Minho scratched his head, stomping onto the dirt as he stares dumbfounded at the man. “I’ve _been_ on my own! What fucking difference does it make if you give me a direction or a location!”

“Damn, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Fuck you!” 

“I just saved your life, and this is how you treat me?” The man scoffs, jumping down from the ledge. Holding his weapon in one hand, he stood before the sorcerer. He was shorter than Minho, he noticed, but had an intimidating aura around him. There was something off about him, Minho could feel it. “Maybe I should just throw you back in front of that dragon. She still hasn’t eaten lunch, you know.”

Minho bit back an insult, scoffing and rolling his eyes. Though Soonie paws at his boot, glancing up at him—he has an idea, thanks to Soonie’s suggestion. An idea he normally _wouldn’t_ do, but hell, he’s on an unknown island with unknown creatures talking to unknown people. He might as well. Besides, was there anyone who would scold him for using such low tactics? No. And did Minho care? _No_.

He mutters an incantation under his breath behind his hand; the stranger arches an eyebrow.

“What?” He asks, Minho taking a step closer.

“I said, where are the clan of dragon trainers?” Minho grazes his fingers across the stranger’s cheek, a yellow glint flashing across his eyes. The stranger’s glare softened, and he stammers, losing all of his previous intimidation.

“In the forest, over the hill.” The man shakes his head furiously, blinking at Minho who only smiles at him. “Wait, a minute!”

“Thank you, was that so hard?” Minho hums, patting his shoulder for Soonie to jump onto, circling her tail around his neck. “Now if you’ll excuse us. We’ll manage from here—on our _own_.”

“Yah! That wasn’t fair! Hold on!” The man caught up with Minho, knitting his brows at the smug sorcerer. “You used magic on me, you bitch!”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Minho mocks, the man stranger scoffing.

“Fine. _I_ was in the wrong, I admit,” the stranger says, placing a hand on his chest, catching Minho’s gaze as he walked alongside him.

“And you are, now go away. I can get to the nearest town by myself.”

“Right, but would my clan even allow you in? You’re lucky you ran into me, I didn’t kill you at first sight.”

“You were about to.” Minho rolls his eyes. “You continue to threaten to.”

“But _they_ wouldn’t even let you talk.” The man smiles. “You’re better off sticking with me. You’re welcome.”

Minho scoffs. He couldn’t believe this guy. He couldn’t believe this was the same person who had saved him from that dragon when he was no better than the creatures themselves. Maybe spending so much time around the beasts made him act like one.

Without another word, Minho walks alongside the man toward the supposed village, entering the forest. The trees were redwood, tall, unlike those that grew outside the valley. Looking up, they looked like they were as tall as the mountain themselves, definitely obscuring anything that lived here from sight.

Minho had to give it to the dragon and the people living with them for secluding themselves so well for thousands of years. But then again, no one exactly lived long enough to even survive two hours on the island.

Further into the forest, they stand over an incline, and there, before Minho a bustling town—normal, it looked completely normal.

There was a tavern, houses, a longhouse, complete with a blacksmith and a shop. The town was on the verge of a cliff side, part of the longhouse built into the rocks, under the cave overhang. Criss-crossing across the cliff side were wooden balconies and stairs, leading to the peak of the cliff where Minho couldn’t see. It was as if Minho had stumbled across some town back in the Mainland, looking to stay the night at some Dwarven city.

Though before he could make any sort of remark toward the town, he almost ducks at the large shadow whizzing by, glancing up in awe as he noticed that above, high in the trees were built houses, connected by bridges and rope.

Just like the bustling town below, it was lively among the branches, people going back and forth and tending chores. Though those up on the trees wore more armor, similar to the blue-haired stranger’s, and carried around weapons of all sizes. Most were the staffs with the hook-like blades, though others had bows. None, however, had swords.

What was most magnificent of all, however, were the large scaly creatures hanging from the trees, crawling across the bark. From one tree to another, or from the canopy roofs to the ground, _dragons_ of different colors, sizes, and species used the trees to traverse, avoiding the town below. Though those that entered the town were smaller dragons, small enough that one stomp didn’t destroy the entire tavern.

But the people and the dragons were both living in harmony, coexisting in this sort of unspoken system, a system that must’ve been around for years—long enough that even the dragons knew how to follow along.

“Do you _not_ have towns on the mainland?” The man asks, Minho whipping his head toward him with wide eyes and a shake of his head.

“No, no. It’s just... I thought—I thought there would be no one here. I thought this island was isolated.” Minho perks up when he noticed the man had left him behind, sliding down the incline after him and into the village. The trees look taller from down here, but the town looks livelier. “I thought everything here was just stuff of legends.”

“You humans just don’t search long enough.”

“How—how long has this— _all_ of this been around? Surely just a couple hundred years?”

“Yah. What do you think we are? Barbarians? We know how to handle a society.”

“No, no—that’s not what I—”

“We’re here.” Minho bumps into the man at the abrupt stop, glancing around. They stopped at a magnificent longhouse, made of wood from the tall pine trees, pictures, and engravings carved onto the side, painted in many harmonizing colors. The roofs were lofty, made of tiles that looked like matted dragon scales. At the head of a roof was a wooden figurehead, a woman, holding a small dragon in her arms.

Staring down at Minho at the foot of the longhouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are going to LOVE the leader ksjdnkffgds. 
> 
> I'm not going to say anything but... the leader is pretty cool :) He has a dragon. Is a great vocalist. Pretty cool, pretty cool :)))
> 
> Much Love <3 Ly


	11. - Ch. 9 -

"I _just_ don't think it's a good idea to reveal ourselves to The Mainland!"

"What have they done for us in the past? Besides the slaughter of our people?"

"And how would revealing ourselves benefit us _or_ them?"

"We've fared fine by ourselves for many millennia, maybe more to come! Why _now_ when we're still prospering and at our peak?"

"Wait, a minute." Minho glances to the stranger that kept him from walking further into the longhouse, holding his sleeve, gesturing to the cluster of people on the other side of the longhouse, standing before another sitting on a wooden throne. Instead, the stranger makes Minho wait by the entrance, standing under the shadows provided by the wooden mezzanine.

The interior was as grand as the outside: polished timber with intricate designs carved into the supporting wood arching across the ceiling. There was a long hearth in the middle along with other candles and lights that gave the entire building a warm glow. To the sides of the hearth were long tables; empty for now, but Minho could only imagine how they would overflow with food and liquor during a feast. The walls were decorated with multiple trophies of animal heads Minho thought were already extinct or only found in legends such as the dragons: a white stag, a golden boar, Nuckelavees, Wargs, and more. Overhead, was a roof of stained glass in the middle of the entire building, the sun shining colors down onto the floor below to keep the interior from being too stuffy.

It smelt of wood and a faded scent of a feast, a very homely smell compared to the forest outside.

"I already told you before. I had a vision—Ahnjong talked to me. Why don't you listen? My father tried to reform our society, yet you didn't listen to him. His father too, and his father's father. You continue to grow stubborn." Walking along the walls toward the throne, Minho could see more of the leader in the middle of the surrounding group, the sunlight passing through the stained glass overhead shining specifically on and the areas around him.

He had white hair, his narrow, dark eyes stern, accentuating his equally narrow face. He stood tall before those who stood before him. Unlike the stranger and the other warriors around him. He wore armor similar to the warriors standing before him, though much more grand, with golden embellishing of leaves and patterns. He wore a red furred cloak hanging off his shoulders, kept together with some sort of large golden dragon brooch. To signify his leadership, he also wore a golden circlet, golden leaves that circled his head in some sort of shining halo.

"You all complain, and you're right—this doesn't benefit us or them. It won't bring harm to us, so why do you all reject it? If we keep isolating ourselves, it'll only be a matter of time before we fall into our own selfishness and powers," He says, his voice echoing throughout the empty longhouse. "How much longer can we contain the future generation who long for more power? The dragons aren't a problem, we know that. But it's only a matter of time before someone would want more power for themselves."

"And you think it's better for outsiders to have _access_ to those powers?" One asks, others agreeing. "You and I— _everyone_ knows that's a bad idea."

"So you would rather have your children, and your children's children to continue with our traditions? They're only speeding up the inevitable. You'd rather stay ignorant for your own selfish needs. Right, because _that's_ what our ancestors did—what we're taught to do, isn't it?"

Silence befalls the group, lowering their heads to avoid the glare their leader had on them. While others had retaliations at the tip of their tongue, most were keen enough to keep their mouths shut. With a sigh, the leader dismisses them, the group of warriors exiting the longhouse to leave their leader alone.

The white-haired man sits on his throne, holding his head in one hand while on the armrest. The stranger gestures for Minho to follow him, standing before the leader with a bow and a small smile.

"Hi." He hums, the white-haired man groaning.

"Jisung, not now—" When he lifts his gaze, his eyes widen at the sight of Minho, his lips parting, his jaw hung. Compared to his powerful debate with the warriors, the leader couldn't even utter a word before Minho.

Minho wondered if traveling decreased his looks. Either that, or he had accidentally placed the leader under some spell.

"Who—who is this?" He asks, gesturing as he glances back at the blue-haired stranger.

"He's—" The stranger glances toward Minho with a grimace, the latter arching his eyebrows. "Who are you?"

"Minho Lee." Minho introduced himself with a bow.

"You're not from here," the leader says.

"No. I'm from the Mainland, The Capital," Minho says. The leader leans forward in intrigue, nodding to allow the sorcerer to continue. "I've traveled as a political means to Linnormr—Beithir, I mean."

"How did you find us?"

"Research, rumors, and..." Minho turns toward the blue-haired stranger, who shrugged and gestured about.

"I saved his ass outside the mountains," he says.

"And what were you doing outside the valley??" The white-haired leader hisses, shooting a glare toward the stranger. He shakes his head, holding up a hand to interrupt whatever bullshit explanation the blue-haired man would sputter. Good riddance. That man's talked enough. "I don't want to hear it. And you." He turns to Minho. "We should talk somewhere private."

**\---**

“I had a vision about you—rather, my dragon did.” Minho stared wide-eyed as the leader—Jeongin Yang, as he introduced himself on the way to his office, gripped the sorcerer’s shoulders, leaning close. That was definitely unexpected. He thought he’d take a talking down to; maybe a little persuasion or, if needed, some “convincing” magic. He didn’t think _this_ would ever play out. “Someone like you would arrive one day, from the Mainland.”

“A vision?” Minho sputters, knitting his brows. “Just so you know, I’m not the first to land on this island.”

“Right, but you’re the first one who survived!” He pushes himself away from Minho, throwing his hands into the air. But he laughs, smiling widely and making frantic gestures about in the office. He falls onto his seat, slapping a hand onto the wooden table. Was everyone on this damned island crazy? “And _you_ will be the bridge our clan needs!”

“Woah! Woah! Hold on.” Minho laughs, making long strides toward Jeongin. “The bridge??”

Minho was never the one for visions. Of course, while the bullshit the local shaman sputters might be in good fun, prophecies or visions and whatnot were nothing but complete, _utter_ bullshit. Even elves, who are a huge fan of prophecies, agree that they’re nothing but dogshit. There was a story about some farmer destined for greatness—the bishops had prophesied of the farmer’s rise to the throne. He had died of the pox the week after.

Or rather, a dwarven leader had a vision he claimed was from the Gods—he and his clan would achieve greatness. They’ll meet up with an orc envoy to create a pact between dwarven and orc kingdoms. Though a chimera ate the orc on the way over—they placed all the blame on the dwarves, and a battle broke out. Was that greatness?

If anything, so-called prophesies or visions might be a warning. Still _complete, utter bullshit._ And dragons and dragon trainers weren’t an exception.

“Yes. Ahnjong, my dragon, spoke to me about a figure who comes into the village out of the blue, looking for greatness from across the sea, across the lands and the mountains—soon, across the sky. You! That’s—“

“Alright, that’s enough.” Minho waves him off with a slight bow. “With all due respect, I’m not looking for any greatness. I’m only here because of my duty to the monarchy.” He sighs, tapping on the wooden table that separated him from Jeongin. “I’m here because of the harvest festival back in the Mainland. Do you know what it is?“

“Yes, I know what it is.”

“You do. Good. Anyway, I’m hosting it.” Minho pauses, staring at the white-haired man. “And I need dragons.”

A pause.

Before Jeongin bursts into laughter, reaching over to pat the sorcerer’s shoulder. “Why would you need _dragons_ for? I get it, they’re cool looking, but do you know what dragons did for thousands of years? They burned down crops, destroyed villages, killed many.” Jeongin’s laughter drops, and his face turns grim. All play he had in his voice dissipated and he stared at the sorcerer as he did to the warriors he conversed with back in the main hall of the longhouse. “And what’s the festival called? A _harvest_ festival.”

“Then how come they haven’t burned down your crops, destroyed your village, or your clan?” Minho asks. “You know how to harness their powers and keep them from destroying the world, right?”

“It’s still dangerous— _very_ dangerous. We’ve cut ourselves off from the rest of the world because of the danger posed onto regular folks like you.” Jeongin huffs, frowning at the sorcerer. “I would _like_ to help you, Minho. But... as the leader, I first swore to my clan, and the oath I took before the All-Mother. We keep the dragons from doing what they did thousands of years ago.”

“Look, I’m not asking you to help _me_ , personally. But the kingdoms. This festival... If I fuck this festival up, a war might break out. The prince wanted everyone from all the kingdoms to get together, celebrate as one. How could I live up to such an impossible task? If I bring out something that doesn’t live up to anyone’s expectations, relations and respect between the kingdoms might turn sour.”

Jeongin nods, clasping his hands in thought. Minho gets it, even he’s unsure about bringing very dangerous, scaled killers in front of a crowd of thousands— _millions._ One wrong move and it’ll be chaos. Though Minho’s willing to place everything— _literally everything_ in this dream. What he had left was his hope. Hope that this works. Hope that he can live up to everyone’s expectations. 

“You said I was the bridge, right? The bridge your clan needs?” Minho asks, Jeongin perking up and staring at the sorcerer. “Fine, I’ll be the bridge. But the prince chose me first. Just imagine the creatures that killed and separated the kingdoms are the ones to bring them together. If I can’t get fit materials for this bridge, it’ll only fall into the raging river below.”

“It’s not that I don’t think you can do it. Ahnjong had provided me enough reassurance for that. It’s just that... It’s a risk. All risks have consequences, including yours. If this fails, not only will _you_ fail, but my clan as well. We’ll be dragged into this war of yours and after that—only the Gods know what’ll happen. It also depends if you’re willing to go through with everything thrown at you.”

“Let’s make a deal.” Minho smiles, leaning down, his hands onto the table. “I’ll help your clan, as your... _dragon_ said... If you help me.”

“I’ll help you, sure. But you have to do most of the work yourself,” Jeongin says. “Learn how to tame a dragon. We’ll teach you.”

“ _What_?!” What Minho thought had been his own thoughts, was instead a loud yell from the door, turning around to see the same blue-haired stranger from earlier— _Jisung Han_ , he thinks his name was. He was holding onto Soonie as requested by Jeongin for the time being, striding into the office and toward the white-haired leader beside Minho. “You’re _really_ letting this outsider stay? And not only that, _handle_ a dragon??”

“Jisung, I thought you of all people would support this decision. And I thought I said no interruptions—“

“I _would_ support a decision like this, but this isn’t what I meant! _You_ want a _complete_ stranger to just walk in here and act like he’s one of us? You’re joking.”

“Yes, and no, I’m not. I think this is the best decision for him and us.”

“How. Literally, _how_ is this a good idea?” Jisung untucked an arm under Soonie, making frantic gestures. “I think allowing him in is enough!”

“If I could interrupt.” Minho clears his throat, Jisung whipping his head toward the sorcerer with a scowl. “I agree with him. Can’t I just take a few of you back to The Capital and create a show?”

“No, you can’t. If you’re going to use dragons, you need to know how to handle them,” Jeongin says. “That’s what they’re comfortable with.”

“You see?” Jisung barks, pointing a finger at Minho. “He doesn’t even know our culture, our traditions! He thinks it’s that easy, disrespecting it even! And you want him with _us_?”

“Fine, Jisung. You’re right. He doesn’t know.” Jeongin sighs, the blue-haired man nodding at his win. But Jeongin holds up a hand, gesturing to Minho with a smile. “So, you’ll be teaching him then. I think you two are very much alike.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, Jeongin was the leader lmao :) Im pretty sure most of yall saw that from a mile away. BUT like I just didn't give Jeongin's character enough thought in AKTP. He was kind of a Mcguffin character and I didn't really think of him until the 2nd half of the story. :/
> 
> But I still wanted to add Jeongin to AKTP, and just decided to pair him up with Hyunjin's character arc or something. He was a bit lackluster imo. 
> 
> BUT, BUT, BUT. Jeongin will play a huge role in this story :) He's not just a leader for show, guys. 
> 
> But that's why Jeongin is the leader and Felix is some sailor who istg WILL come back, he's not just a throwaway character kjfnojsavhft
> 
> Much Love <3 Ly


	12. - Ch. 10 -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't know if y'all know about the Jisung situation, that recently came up about him saying the n-racial slur, degrading SEA, plus-sized people, and those with mental issues. It was a rap he made when he was 13, and I know that he was young and ignorant, but that shouldn't be a valid excuse. He was clearly writing a song with so much hate, as angsty teen. And I'm sure he's grown from that, he's an adult now.
> 
> But as a SEA I was really hurt as what he put in that song. Like I looked up to Jisung because, sure, he's a S. korean, but he talked about Malaysia like it was his real home that us in SEA community basically accepted him as our own. I thought he was finally giving SEA representation. And I related to him so much because of his social anxiety that I also had to go through, and I thought he was so strong for pushing past it. I looked up to him.
> 
> So hearing him say those words, it broke my heart. I know it was made when he was 13, but he still did it. And I know I'll forgive him if he releases a proper apology. But he NEEDS to release an apology, not only for the SEA but for everyone who he put down in that song. Not because I hate him, or have something against him, but because I love Jisung and want what's the best for him and the entirety of Skz.
> 
> This, by no means, should validate people to hate on him, though. He was young, stupid, and hateful. If he owns up to his actions, it'll show he's matured and grown as a person. And as long as he educates himself properly and doesn't EVER do it again then it'll be fine by me. But don't hate on those who can't forgive him. Even I, as I'm writing this, I can't look at Jisung properly. It just hurts.
> 
> But I just wanted to say something about this situation, sorry for the long Author's note in the beginning. I just wanted y'all to know that, whichever side you are, there shouldn't be any hate thrown around carelessly. 
> 
> Much Love <3 Ly. 
> 
> P.S: what you're about to read is in NO WAY influenced by this recent news. This was written WAY before this situation came up. SO I'm sorry if I made y'all think differently about Jisung. I don't mean to hurt his image in ANY WAY.
> 
> ALSO I WILL NOT BE UPDATING TOMORROW!!
> 
> EDIT IMPORTANT: He VERY recently just released an apology. A full blown apology, not avoiding the subject. And I’m happy, so happy that our Jisung has matured so much :) it wasn’t a vague, kpop idol company apology, it was Han Jisung actually addressing the situation and trying to make up for his mistakes ❤️❤️❤️ and I forgive him

“We’re having a quiz.”

Children. Jisung paired him up with _children._

“Remember, no cheating. Eyes on your own paper. You have fifty minutes. This should be easy if you studied the book Hyunjin told you to study.”

“Why am I here?” Minho asks, eyeing the multiple sheets of paper the blue-haired man places on his desk, eyebrows arched and glancing around the classroom. The other students (who were all around the ages of ten or _younger)_ all stared at Minho.

“You wanna learn, right?” Jisung shrugs, handing Minho a quill and an inkwell. “By the way, this is our new student, kids. Minho Lee, or something. Sadly, he joined us on a quiz day, so... Anyway, before we get started, questions?”

“Yeah, me—“ Minho raised a hand, clearing his throat. “ _Seriously_ , why am I here?”

“It’s my turn to teach our younglings. Any more questions?”

“But I’m not a—“

“Ah, yes! Question?” Jisung points at a little girl raising her hand, heaving himself to sit on an empty wooden table at the head of the room.

“Isn’t it unfair for him to take the quiz without studying the material?” The little girl asks.

“Ah,” Jisung says, nodding. At least the little girl no older than eight had more sense than a twenty and some other grown man, this idiot. “No, no. It’s completely fair. Since he’s grown-up already, he should know all the material already. I mean, have you seen _any_ adult that doesn’t know the basics? Exactly. Anyway, if that’s all the questions...” Jisung glosses over Minho’s raised hand, smiling at the group of children and... Minho. “You may start. Remember, fifty minutes.”

This was the worst day ever. When Jeongin told Jisung to “train” Minho, he had thought that they’d do something combative, or have a hands-on approach to dragons. Not... _quizzes_. Minho had enough studying back at the capital, and when he thought he could escape education and studying, here he was. In a classroom, taking a quiz assigned by a piece-of-shit teacher.

And he wasn’t even doing anything! The blue-haired man only sat on the table at the head of the classroom, his legs swinging back and forth, eyes glossing over a book Minho was _sure_ only had pictures. Geez, he felt like he was studying with his uncle back in the archives.

But sure, Minho guessed he’ll play along. He was, after all, the outsider here. He shouldn’t complain. Since Jisung was right about his lack of knowledge on dragons, why not take the quiz? Why not learn about them a little more?

Looking down at the quiz, Minho glosses through the stack of papers.

What Minho read was absolute bullshit. _Absolutely_ stupid bullshit that he audibly scoffs, the other students all warily glancing at him. He arches an eyebrow at Jisung, but the blue-haired man only gives him a thin-lipped smile, gesturing back to the test.

Minho couldn’t _believe_ the absurdity of this quiz, that he thought that this was some sort of scheme. Is this really what they’re teaching young dragon trainers here?

Question one: Considering breakfast, what are five staple foods?

Minho didn’t fucking know! For all he knows, one of them might as well be a roast pig! Minho thought that he’d be learning something about dragons! Instead, here he was, wasting his precious time on a damn quiz. Minho was absolutely sure Jisung was the one who wrote this test. All for what? To ridicule him? To teach some bullshit lesson?

Though the fifth question was at least a little better; finally a question that had something to do with dragons, which was still so ridiculous.

In case of emergency, what should a trainer _always_ have on them?

A, a weapon.

B, medicine.

C, both a and b

D, a pastry of any sort.

Surely, it _wasn’t_ D. But then again, the entire quiz was so stupid that it might as well be D! Though Minho goes about the rational way of thinking. These were just tricks, right? Maybe Minho’s looking too much into this, having deep experiences with quizzes and tests and the sort. Maybe some sort of reverse-reverse psychology.

But Minho should fare _decently_ in this quiz. He took care of animals, after all. He even nursed a basilisk back to health. How could dragons be any different?

“You failed the test.”

“You didn’t even look at it,” Minho scoffs as Jisung places the stack of paper to the side. The other students had left, leaving Minho the last to finish—Oh, Goody.

“I’ve taught many classes and even took this test when I was a kid. You failed.” Jisung crumples the small stack of papers and throws them to the fireplace.

“ _Wow_. I never would’ve guessed. I thought I studied the material well.” Minho deadpans.

“Is that sarcasm I hear?” The blue-haired man smiles. Gods, Minho wanted to curse this asshole to vomit frogs.

“No. I just recited a line from a famous play, dipshit. Of course, it’s sarcasm.”

“I hope you understand the reason for this quiz. You don’t know shit.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Minho rolls his eyes. “What the hell do you want me to do, now?”

Jisung smiles widely, reaching back and reaching for a stack of books beside the table. He takes a book near the bottom, the entire stack of precious books toppling and scattering all over the floor. _And_ this man had no respect for education! Minho knew they were barely starting, but Gods, how much more can he take??

“You look like the studious type. This should be easy for you.” The shorter hums, dusting off the top before handing it to Minho. The older arches an eyebrow, eyeing the thick book of... _Dragon Beastiary: Everything and More. Master Edition: Volumes 1-4._ “We’re taking another quiz tomorrow.”

“There are at least a thousand pages in here.”

“And? You’re a sorcerer, aren’t you? That shouldn’t be much of a problem for someone of your status?” Jisung rolls his eyes, crossing his arms when the sorcerer only stood there, staring at him. He reaches forward, pinching the sorcerer’s cheek with a smug smile. “I think it’s best if you get started now, Mr. Lee.”

“I hope you choke on your damn pastries.” That’s not all, Minho wanted to throw this damn book at him.

“Goodbye, Mr. Lee! See to you in class tomorrow!” Jisung calls after him, the sorcerer slamming the door shut on his way out. 

**\---**

Minho was no stranger to long nights of studying. He’s burned many containers of midnight oil in his lifetime. Sorcerers like him had to dedicate their entire lives to learning and studying. It’s always a misconception that magic was a hard field to study. It wasn’t hard to study at all, it just required lots, and lots of patience.

However, when Minho got to his room Jeongin graciously gave him, he almost threw the book out the window. No, the book did nothing wrong, they never do. It’s the bitch that gave it to him!

It reminded Minho of his days with his uncle when he was nothing but a mere apprentice still learning his craft. When he did nothing but stay inside, read, and practice his spells. It’s always a chore, but it pays off. He’s willing to think of this the same way.

It should all pay off in the end, right? There’s a purpose to this, a reason (a damn good one) that he even agreed to in the first place. Besides, he’s the one who went out of his way to find them. He couldn’t give up now, not when he’s already this far. If he’s willing to tame a dragon, then he’s willing to conquer a thousand-page book in less than a day.

And he entered the classroom confident the next day, humming and smiling at the blue-haired man that arched an eyebrow at him. He studied well—well _enough_ that Minho was confident he wouldn’t fail.

Jisung wanted him to learn and study? Sure, he’ll fucking learn.

“You cheated.”

“You just don’t like me proving you wrong,” Minho scoffs, crossing his arms. But Jisung points at an answer Minho wrote with an arched eyebrow.

“That is literally, word-for-word, what it says in the book.”

And being a _sorcerer_ and all, devoting his life to studying _and_ spells—Minho’s learned how to cut corners. Cut so _many_ corners that his straight-cut cube of integrity had become a sphere. He learned the spell from a friend of his one summer day and had used it throughout his apprenticeship.

Though it’s been a while since he’s used the spell, and instead of studying as Jisung had asked, he worked all night perfecting and practicing the spell. There was nothing wrong with his ability to perform it, however, it was a matter of doing it inconspicuously. The spell required him to skim through the book an hour before, easy enough. However, he also needed to shut his eyes for a long amount of time when performing—which was suspicious as hell in the classroom.

The night before, Minho did a little tinkering with the spell, changed an incantation here and there and—Yes, Minho “ _cheated,”_ in layman’s terms. But he thought of it as thinking outside the box.

“Do you have any evidence that I cheated?” Minho asks, holding up his arms and hands. “There’s no book here. No writing here or there. What, would you like to check my ass for writing too?”

Jisung scoffs, placing the paper onto the table, pointing at a smug Minho. “This is why I hate sorcerers. You can’t cut corners when you’re training a dragon.”

“Last time I checked, reading a damn book isn’t training a dragon.” Minho bites back, glaring at the shorter. “What’s your problem? Is it the end of the world for you to be friendly for once?”

“ _You’re_ my problem! I hate how you can just walk in here, _think_ that training dragons is the easiest thing in the world—you’re belittling us and what we do just by being here.” Jisung hissed, grabbing the front of Minho’s shirt, yanking him, his voice lowering to a menacing mutter. “I _hate_ how you think you carry yourself, thinking that dragons are just some _tool_ you can use to wow people. They aren’t, and you—”

“Jisung, that’s enough!”

His grip on Minho’s shirt doesn’t lessen, his anger burning bright in his eyes as he stared at Minho. But the sorcerer doesn’t back down, clenching and unclenching his fists to bite back a spell. Not when Jeongin enters the room. Not even when he glared at the blue-haired man with a silent threat.

Jisung scoffs, shoving Minho away and turning to Jeongin.

“I assigned _you_ to teach Minho, not look down on him,” Jeongin scolds, gesturing to Jisung in contained anger contrary to the blue-haired.

“You could’ve asked anyone—literally anyone else to teach him! Why me?! Do you want to make an example? To teach me a goddamn lesson? Well, here it is, I failed! Congratu-fucking-lations! I couldn’t even last two days. Are you happy??”

“You’re not even giving him a chance!” Jeongin says. “My father gave you a chance, why don’t you to him?”

“Because at least _I_ went through everything I had to, to become a trainer.” Minho tenses as Jisung turns his head to seethe at him. His explosive anger had suddenly simmered, though still hot to the touch and bound to explode if provoked anymore. But the way Jisung glared at him, the way he spoke to Minho—right. He’s right, Minho’s not supposed to be here.

“I think we’re done here. Go back to your duties. See me in my office tomorrow morning, understand?” The white-haired mutters. With another look at Minho, Jisung storms out, leaving Jeongin pulling at his hair, Minho huffing.

“I’m sorry he’s like that... Jisung is just... He’s just difficult to work with sometimes,” Jeongin explains, Minho nodding. “Sorry you had to sit there the entire time.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I can handle him, don’t worry.” Minho offers him a smile, one the leader gratefully returns. “But he’s right, though. I’m not supposed to be here.”

“Yet here you are. If you’re supposed to be here, fate wouldn’t even let you _near_ this place. It’s fate that you ended up here. It’s _your_ fate to learn.”

Though Minho laughs, shaking his head. “Then I guess fate has been slacking.”


	13. - Ch. 11 -

The next day had been a little better at least.

Exiting his quarters to find his “mentor” (mentor was a _very_ generous word), he instead ran into the blue-haired right outside his door, a frown on his lips, his brows furrowed. He wondered why and how can someone be so grumpy so early in the morning. However, he remembered Changbin existed.

Minho could only roll his eyes, expecting insult to injury, or maybe a half-assed lecture if Jisung was up to it. But instead, he apologized, low and still staring at Minho with a haughty glare. Minho was sure he didn’t mean it, and Jeongin probably told him off to apologize to the sorcerer. But the apology was good enough for Minho. He was sure the dragon-trainer had his reasons, especially since almost all the town felt that way toward outsiders—Minho.

Jisung gestured Minho to follow with no explanation, heading north of town. He thought they were just going to the classroom again, take a quiz, read a book, study, _whatever._

Instead, Jisung continued walking, and walking, and walking. Until they reached the base of the cliff. Glancing up, he brings his fingers to his mouth, whistling loud enough that Minho was sure that the damn trolls on the other side of the mountains had heard it.

Though at the edge of a cliff, peeked a horned black head. The creature crawls down the cliff side, using the hooks at the edge of its wings, spider-like as it lands on its feet in front of Jisung, breathing at his face in small greeting.

The dragon was smaller than the copper one Minho ran into in the woods, black with no incredulous shine to it. Its eyes are sunken in, creating enough of a shadow that its piercing blue eyes glowed even in daytime.

It’s a lithe creature, two massive horns protruding from the sides of its frill-framed face. Its wings were long, hooked at the tips to climb as it did earlier. And despite its reek of death, it greeted Jisung with a warm lick.

“Down, down. Ugh, your breath smells disgusting.” Jisung gags before the dragon could tackle him to the ground. When it’s eyes flickered to Minho, the dragon almost immediately growls low, stalking the sorcerer. Jisung placed a hand on its snout, shouting, “Down! Down! He’s not an enemy.”

But Minho swore he heard Jisung mutter, _“at least Jeongin doesn’t think so...”_ under his breath, but decides to ignore it.

“So... is this your dragon?” Minho asks, the younger nodding.

“Ara. She’s Ara,” Jisung says, gesturing up. “We’re going somewhere. High in the mountains. It’ll take at least a week for us to get there if we were to walk. And I don’t think I can last that long being that close to you.”

“Where are we going?” Minho asks, Jisung hitching his hooked weapon behind the dragon’s horns and heaving himself up onto her back.

“Up. Toward the hatchery.” 

**—-**

“Are you getting off or what?”

Minho’s eyes shot open, glancing toward the blue-haired that already jumped off of Ara, standing on a ledge that led to the mouth of a cave.

“Oh, yes, yes. Hold on.” Minho clears his throat, lessening his grip on the dragon and carefully, _very_ carefully inches toward the ledge, jumping with a yelp and landing on the snow. Luckily, the dragon trainer hadn’t seen his pathetic display and already entered without waiting for Minho. But the sorcerer scampers inside the cave, ignoring the very tall, barren mountainside the ledge hung over.

Inside was safe and warm, contrary to the snowy wasteland of the mountains—maybe that’s why it’s a hatchery. The inside was sparsely decorated, warmly lit with a few torches and the natural sunlight that spilled into the area; just an open cave with a contained pool of bubbling lava at the end of the cavern. Though spread in large piles next against the walls were hay and wool, little dragons laying and playing with each other on the make-shift beds.

Inside and around the pool were different dragon eggs, at least the size of Minho’s torso, Jisung pulling Minho back before the sorcerer could get any closer to the lava.

“Careful, it’s hot,” Jisung says, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, I figured.” Minho huffs, jumping back when baby dragons ran in front of him, chasing and blowing spurts of fire at each other. “So.... Is this it?”

“Jeongin wanted me to give you a more hands-on approach, so here we are.” The younger gestures about the cavern. “The hatchery.”

“I mean, they’re cute, at least.” It was a little underwhelming to say the least. Minho thought a dragon hatchery would be as grand, maybe more than the town below. After all, this is where _dragons_ hatched, where gods were born and where eggs rested. Instead, it was just a dark cave with a pool of lava. Minho clears his throat, crouching to stare at a young green dragon rolling into his boot to escape a red dragon chasing it. Jisung uses his weapon to separate the two dragons, nudging the red dragon away as the green continued to lie against Minho’s boot, it’s frills protruding as it hissed, sneezing and spitting out a cloud of green gas.

“Cute but dangerous.” Jisung hooks his weapon under the dragon’s belly, lifting it from the ground and letting it rest on his arm. “All of our dragons lay their eggs here, left alone until they hatch. No one usually comes here—maybe one or two trainers to check that nothing happened to the hatchlings every... month or so?”

“ _Month_??” Minho shoots up to his feet, staring at the younger with furrowed eyebrows. “You’re really leaving baby dragons by themselves?”

“Yes. They stay in here until they need to leave.”

“Need? What do you mean by that?”

“I mean until they grow hungry. If they stay here, they starve to death. But if they go outside, they can glide down to the town. That’s why there aren’t any stairs up here—no one can get in here without a dragon. Jumping off that ledge will help them learn to fly at a young age.”

Minho’s heard of birds throwing their young out of the nest, but this was just monstrous. They either let the baby dragon starve or fall to their death?? What if they can’t fly yet? And what about their mothers and their kin? Surely, dragons would at least greet their own children, right?

Many people described dragons as monsters, but he didn’t think they’d be _this_ type of monster too.

“Oh Gods, I know that look.” Jisung scoffs, rolling his eyes at the sorcerer. “It’s the most humane thing to do. We’ve done this sort of process for thousands of years. This proves that the baby dragons are strong enough to survive. If they aren’t, and they get down there...” Jisung glances away, running his fingers across the graceful creature that stood on his arm, spreading its wings and letting out a small squawk. “They’re eaten by the stronger ones. We’ve tried everything we can to separate them, but the stronger, older dragons almost instantly kill the weaker ones. It’s survival of the fittest down there. And I mean that with the dragons _and_ their trainers.”

What did Jisung mean by their trainers? He didn’t think that the humans would undergo a similar process—they didn’t eat their own, as far as he knew (but then again they were all crazy enough that it’s possible). Did they kill the weaker ones? Throw them off some ledge unless they themselves learned to fly? Maybe that’s why they get to live alongside dragons, for they knew what it was like at a very young age.

But he didn’t have enough heart to ask Jisung. Sure the man was insufferable, but Minho didn’t want to start any conflict— _anymore_ conflict at least.

“ _Look_ , I still don’t like you,” Jisung says, his eyes catching Minho’s gaze. “I still think you shouldn’t be here. And I still think you should go back to the Mainland to live out your life instead of wasting your time _here_. But I _will_ tolerate you.” 

“Alright.” Minho shrugs. That was good enough for him. He couldn’t please everyone, and if Jisung stays out of his way, then he’ll stay out of Jisung’s. At least the younger said something about it, even if it was slightly out of the blue. “Then I’ll break even.”

“Good. I guess we can finally agree on something.” Jisung hums. The two perk up at the sound of cracking, the trainer settling the green dragon onto the floor as they glance toward the pool of lava. An egg inside the pool trembled—another crack.

A hooked snout poked out from between the shell, tapping and pushing past the barrier and the outside world. Soon, a clawed hand breaks free, and then its clasped wings, spreading slowly to rid themselves of the slimy substance that accumulated inside the egg. Then soon, a head peeks out, gargoyle-like, with many sharp spines and spikes protruding from the sides of its face. Two big, bright eyes then opened and stared at Minho, and shortly, it was trying to climb out of its egg.

Though the egg was on the far side of the ledge that the dragon either had to jump or fly to land on safe ground. Minho feared the dragon might fall into the lava, though Jisung holds him back with a hand, gesturing to the pool. “Just watch,” he says.

And Minho does, though with held breath and hand at the ready just in case the baby dragon falls into the falls in the lava.

The dragon makes an opening wide enough in the shell, heaving itself out using its front claws. It sits up, leans over—the egg tips into the lava, the baby dragon plunging into the fiery pit.

Minho almost shrieks, he really did. He took care of animals and nursed them back to health for a living, and seeing a creature just walk right into death’s door without even experiencing the world for at least _ten_ minutes did numbers on him.

“What the hell is wrong with you??” Minho turns to Jisung with wide eyes, sputtering and pulling at his hair. But the shorter only crossed his arms, arching an eyebrow. How could Jisung do that?! How could he just stand by and such—this _“survival of the fittest”_ was nothing more than heartless killings. He gets he didn’t want these baby dragons to get eaten by the older ones, but at least save them from lava, for fuck’s sake!

Minho perks up as a tiny squawk comes from under him, eyes widening at the recently hatched dragon at his feet, looking up and tail sliding from side to side. Steam came off of the dragon, and Minho could feel the heat off of it even through his boots. The sorcerer sputters, pointing at the gray-scaled creature," You—it’s... It’s still alive!"

“Dragons are stronger than you think.” Jisung crouches by the dragon, taking caution as he spreads the dragon’s wings. “Even when they’re barely born, they’re still harmful and could survive swimming through lava for a few hours. That’s actually how they stay warm up here. It gets chilly here at night.”

Right... Jisung knew more about dragons—he was the _trainer,_ after all. Anything that happened here shouldn’t surprise him. He was practically on the other side of the world, with an entire sea between him and his home. But then again, taking care of animals... He once helped a Griffin give birth—maybe it was the miracle of life that made him so soft toward these creatures, dragons or basilisks or serpents or otherwise.

“Dark gray, bluish scales, large horns, lithe. Nice wings, Pretty thin, though. She didn’t hatch with the rest—it’s still too early.” Jisung frowns, the dragon crawling onto his arm as he stands. “I don’t think this dragon will survive.”

“What? Why not?” Minho asks, furrowing his brows. He flinches as the dragon jumps onto his shoulder, wrapping its lithe body around his neck—almost like a scalier version of Soonie. “She looks fine to me.”

“See those wings?” Jisung spreads one of the dragon’s wings, pointing at the gray skin there. “It’s almost see-through. It’ll tear in the mountain snow once she needs to fly down. And by the time she needs to eat, it’ll still be too soon.”

“And you can’t do anything about it? You can’t just... take her down to town yourself and nurse her back to health?”

“No, sadly. It’ll be a miracle if the other baby dragons don’t eat her here.” Jisung huffs, glancing up at the sorcerer gently running his fingers across her dull scales. He sighs, scratching his head. “I get it though... I hate going here. I don’t like seeing these dragons just... you know? I don’t like seeing dragons just...” He pauses, frowning and gently patting the gray dragon. “But I’ve lived long enough to know which ones live and which ones don’t. She’s not the first one, and she definitely won’t be the last.'“

Minho nods, scratching the underside of the dragon’s chin. He thought his first lesson about dragons would be about fire, their combat, or maybe their history. It’s so sad to see these baby dragons, barely hatched and ready to tackle the world. Of course, there was a chance they could survive, and Minho shouldn’t underestimate most of these dragons. But what happens to the dragons like this one? So bright and beautiful—sure, weak and born early. But surely, there was a way to save them?

“I’m naming her,” Minho says, Jisung arching an eyebrow.

“I don’t think—“

“Dori. Her name’s Dori.”

“If you name it, you’ll get attached,” Jisung says, tilting his head. “And we’re not supposed to be naming these dragons. These dragons are supposed to be for the next generation of trainers. Hell, us being here while an egg hatched is pushing it a little too far.”

“I don’t care.” Minho flashes the younger a smile, one that Jisung stares at. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”


	14. - Ch. 12 -

Jisung isn’t the first one to look at Minho like... _that_. No, not with adoration or with open arms—with contempt. The others looked at the sorcerer with contempt. Everywhere he walked, he had to step over eggshells. He feared that one wrong word would get his head served on a platter for the dragons.

He wouldn’t call the dragon trainers barbarians, no, as the elves did to the orcs. But they _could_ learn a thing or two about hospitality.

Sure, they were warm with each other, and it was nice to see them care so much for their dragons but... He guessed, other than that, there was no more room for anything else in their stone-cold hearts—much like the dragons themselves.

Jeongin might be the only one human enough to welcome him, much more greet him. But the man was so busy that Minho didn’t have the heart to ask him to be his mentor instead of some certain blue-haired dipshit.

He’s stuck with Jisung for now. But at least they confessed their tolerance. At least there would be no more sought out conflict if neither wanted it (even though Minho was sure Jisung was only cooperating for the sake of Jeongin).

It was fine; it was fine. At least the townsfolk like Soonie.

Like her so much, in fact, that she hasn’t returned to Minho ever since they arrived in the town, that conniving little piece of—Minho’s sure she’s enjoying herself. Though he kind of misses the ball of marmalade fur pressed up against him at night. But he gets it. New world, new things, new sights. She had much more time than Minho to explore—probably a lot more convincing towards others, too.

He just hopes she hasn’t gotten eaten by a dragon. But then again, dragons might snuff up to her charms too.

“Good morning! Minho, right?”

It’s pretty early in the morning. Minho opted to eating breakfast earlier than the rest of the town to avoid their wary glares, mostly to avoid confrontation. Of course, there were a few people dining in the tavern along with Minho, mostly guards or warriors that needed to get up and early to start their duties. Though the sorcerer had occupied a table in the corner, hiding under the shadow of his cloak so no one could see him, eating his breakfast quickly.

He thought he’d have a peaceful breakfast. It’s been a week since Minho arrived at the village. Even though the townsfolk glanced at him curiously, no one actually created any active conflict (except for Jisung). He worked on his notes while breakfast, writing everything he’s seen and encountered. If he were to go home empty-handed, he at least wanted to write an updated bestiary on dragons instead of awful inaccuracy of a book back in The Capital (since Jisung would rather die than let Minho take _anything_ from their village back to the capital).

Though hearing someone greet him, he immediately shuts the book, thinking it was Jisung—the tone was too warm to be Jisung though and relaxed when he noticed that it had been someone else.

Purple hair, broad shoulders, pale skin; he looked much scarier than Jisung that Minho pressed himself against the wall. He wore a red-furred coat, his armor shining under the warm glow of the candles. A scar ran over his left icy blue eye, almost staring through his soul.

“Is this seat taken?” He asks, gesturing to the table, Minho shaking his head with wide eyes. The man smiles, sitting across from Minho, taking a sip of his stew. When the sorcerer stares at him, he perks up, sheepishly smiling.

“Oh! Sorry, Chan Christopher Bang. But just call me Chan or Chris, either work. Nice to meet you.” He holds out a hand with a smile, the sorcerer taking the warm gesture. Minho continued to stay silent, Chan clearing his throat before offering him another smile. “I heard about an outsider staying with us from Jeongin. I wanted to greet you earlier, but I just couldn’t find you. Guess you’ve been busy, huh?”

He gestures to the book Minho hid under his arm, laughing. Though much more menacing than Jisung, at least this _stranger_ had a better attitude. “It’s alright. You don’t have to hide it. I guess the outside world needs to catch up on dragons, right?”

“Right. Sorry, is there something wrong?” Minho asks, arching an eyebrow.

“Oh, no. I just wanted to see an outsider.”

“Why? How long has it been since an outsider entered?”

“Never. Ever since we settled down here in Beithir, no outsider’s ever seen us.” Chan shrugs, taking another sip of his stew. “Honestly, I thought you’d be someone different. Probably like a powerful warrior or a prince. Not a bookworm—no offense. I mean, when people first noticed you enter town, you were walking around with wide eyes and a damn cat on your shoulder—everyone thought you were some sort of jester. It’s just surprising to see someone like you get past all the monsters living outside the valley, you know?”

“It’s okay. I agree,” Minho says. “I’m surprised I even survived. A part of it is thanks to Jisung, though.”

“Ah, Jisung.” The purple-haired man nods, gesturing to the sorcerer with his spoon. “We grew up together, trained together. Tough kid.”

“Too tough, actually. The first day he taught me, he was so close to beating the shit out of me.”

Chan sputters, choking on his stew before staring at Minho wide-eyed before huffing, shaking his head. “Oh hell, _Jisung’s_ teaching you? Damn, good luck with that. You’re better off returning to the Mainland than staying with _Jisung_.”

Minho thought about that too. He didn’t want to go home because of the dragons, or the stares, or the dangers. But Jisung, who seemed much worse than ten dragons combined—worse than the overbearing wrath of the bureaucracy back at The Capital.

“He’s just... He’s just _difficult_ to work with, sometimes,” Chan says. “And it’s not his fault. At least not directly—he just... He’s just difficult, you know?”

“I get it, you don’t have to explain. We’re never exactly on the same page.” Minho shrugs. “If it’s not too much to ask, you seem like a nice guy. Maybe you could replace him instead.”

“Maybe. But I don’t think I could retract Jeongin’s orders. He’ll probably beat me over the ass if he finds out that we ditched Jisung. Besides, you two are similar. I think he’ll understand how to work with you better than I can.”

Minho could laugh! Jeongin had said the same thing, and while Minho first thought of it as a sarcastic remark, he couldn’t help but wonder what the _fuck_ did he and Jisung have in common?

As far as he knew, he was warm toward strangers, didn’t seek active conflict, and wasn’t a total asshat all the damn time. If anything, Minho was the complete _opposite_ of the blue-haired, squirrelly man, and even describing them as two sides of the same coin was pushing it too far.

It’s _such_ a hassle to keep up with someone who you _just_ couldn’t get along with. And Minho didn’t want any conflict—never liked it. But when his mentor did nothing but criticize, bark and insult Minho, he couldn’t help but seek conflict himself, consequences be damned.

“At least he’s giving you a chance.” Chan hums, Minho scoffing. 

“I’m sorry, but… Is _that_ what you call ‘a chance’ in your culture?”

“I mean, _no_ —”

“Chan! Chan!” The two perk up as a long blond-haired man enters the tavern, yelling and screaming despite the early morning. But the others paid him no mind as he ran through the establishment, continuing to call for the purple-haired. “Cha—”

“Right here, dipshit!”

“Oh. There you are!” The blond runs over, pushing Chan over to take a seat beside him. The purple-haired groans, rolling his eyes at the taller. “ _So!_ The _outsider!_ Remember, people said that he arrived in town with a cat on his shoulder? Remember, the orange one, with the big sparkly eyes? _Well—_ oh, by the way, Jeongin’s looking for you.”

“Yeah. I _know._ And he knows I was just getting breakfast.”

“Oh. Well... I thought _you_ didn’t know.” His bright eyes turn to Minho, the latter perking up with wide eyes and a sheepish smile. The long-haired man gestures to him with an arched eyebrow. “Who is this?”

“Minho Lee. The _outsider_.” Chan rolls his eyes, continuing his stew. But he gestures about with his spoon, “I _thought_ _you_ knew?”

“I’ve been patrolling the mountains all week long, looking for the Wyverns.” The man smiles at Minho, his narrow eyes bright on him, his cheeks rounding. He reaches over and takes Minho’s hands in his own, shaking them in a warm (too warm) greeting. “Hyunjin Hwang. Nice to meet you!”

“Likewise.” Minho smiles. Apparently pleasant people were a thing among dragon trainers. He had thought they were myths!

“How are you enjoying the town so far? It’s been many, many, _many_ years since we’ve seen an outsider.”

“It’s... amazing. I’ve never really seen a settlement like this one.”

“Ah, so do you travel a lot then? I’ve always dreamed about traveling, but we’re kind of stuck here.” He laughs, waving off Minho. “But is the Mainland okay? Like... It’s not on fire or anything?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. More than fine, actually.”

“Oh.” Chan nudges Hyunjin, gesturing to Minho with his head. “He’s training with Jisung.”

“Ah _Jisung,_ huh? Good luck with that!” Hyunjin cackles, slapping a hand on the wood table. Apparently everyone had the same reaction at the mention of Jisung’s name. Minho gets it though, but he guessed he felt a little less special now that he’s learned that Jisung practically treats everyone that way—which was a little surprising. Minho guessed that the blue-haired saw everyone as equal, if he was being generous. “He’s cool and all, but _definitely_ the worst at making friends.”

“ _Right_??” Minho had never connected with someone on such a personal level, it was a bit scary. “He makes you just want to choke him!”

“ _Exactly._ We never got along when we were younger. We’re friends now, but man! I _wish_ I could’ve strangled him back then!” Hyunjin laughs. Minho’s smile, however, immediately drops, noticing a certain blue-haired man standing behind Hyunjin with crossed arms and a glare, hellfire burning in his eyes. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Minho guessed.

But Hyunjin didn’t notice him, that poor bastard. Minho liked the guy, but he didn’t know they’d be hosting a funeral for him so soon.

“And he’s so short too! So tiny and cute and annoying! He doesn’t look like a dragon trainer at all! He can’t even take on a damn sandwich!”

“Hyunjin...?”

“I’m surprised he could even reach his dragon! I’m also surprised he matched with his dragon! Jisung can’t even be intimidating, even if he tried.”

“Hyunjin—”

“And can you _believe_ he hasn’t changed since when we were kids?? Man, if you have some time, I should tell you some stuff about him. Absolutely _ridiculous!”_ Hyunjin’s laughter died down, clutching his sides and running his head into Chan’s shoulder. Though Chan just finished his stew, standing up and leaving the group. “Aw, Chris! Where—”

The blonde lets out a squeak at the sight of Jisung behind him, sinking back into the table. Chan was smart to leave.

“I hope your bones are flexible, Hyunjin,” Jisung hisses, the taller letting out an awkward chuckle and a glance toward Minho.

“Oh? Would you look at the time! I have to report back to Jeongin about those Wyverns. See you during supper!” Hyunjin scrambles to his feet, bowing and waving to Minho and Jisung as he chases after Chan outside the tavern.

Minho wished he could go with them. They were a great bunch, curious instead of hateful toward outsiders. But they seemed like a busy pair. He didn’t want to bother them either. He already had an _amazing_ teacher standing right in front of him, after all!

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll finish in a second, don’t worry.” Minho didn’t even let Jisung scold him, finishing his stew and gathering his things. “What are we learning today? More looking at dragon types?”

Jisung huffs, staring at Minho. “No, it’ll be something different.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY YALL FOR FORGETTING TO UPDATE 
> 
> Schoolwork has been piling up on me and my editor recently, and I find less and less time to write, sorry y'all :/ Hope yall understand <3
> 
> Much Love <3 Ly


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